Acta non Verba
by Audacia's Quill
Summary: Actions not Words'. Yaoi, MarikxHarry romance, " Flamel sealed the Philosopher's stone away in two mirrors, which end up in the hands of two boys halfway across the world, both imprisoned in their lives, the quest to find the other begins..."
1. Erised

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover, my old pilot-fic I never posted, rewritten for my beloved Soubi-bear whom you all know as PyromaniacBlackWings, check her stuff out._

_Yaoi, OOC, Rating to go up to M later. HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!  
_

_I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTERxx_

_

* * *

_

The amount of times they had left him on the curb to die had always left Harry Potter confused.

Miss Arabella Figg would always take him back, right back to the Dursley household.

His hair was ratted, tears were swimming and a little band-aid was on his lower left cheek, Harry wept but he didn't really make noise. He just stood there with a blank stare and mechanically working arms pouring over a banquet his lips would not touch. His stomach rumbled out for the food but his brain told him to spare himself a beating so Harry merely watched the Dursleys devour his hard work.

Dudley left for Smelting's Junior School, looking as though he was poured into his clothes even at the tender age of ten. Harry looked pitiful in his graying hand-me-downs, he was also far smaller and lithe despite being only one year younger then his cousin.

Harry always knew he wasn't normal.

He even had to go to a separate junior school so he wouldn't infect Dudley's friends with his freakishness.

Harry plodded to the bathroom after clearing the table and doing the dishes, grabbing the large purple brush from the bathroom window he ran it through his hair.

Aunt Petunia had long-since given up on his hair.

Harry whimpered in pain as the brush went through his long knotted black hair which straightened out just past his ears, it went from spikey to straight at the cost of broken brush-bristles that he picked from his hair.

He fixed up his cracked glasses and washed up, preparing for a new day.

* * *

**Later (Empty Classroom):**

Harry sobbed in the corner when he was sure nobody could see, and the kids had gone.

They hadn't even given him a _chance_.

The kids at Stonewall primary let the image of tattered-clothed, broken-taped-bottle-glasses, bruised, tiny-Harry sink into their minds. On his first day he found himself alone, like they had smelled his weakness, on a subconscious level the kids had already alienated him out the pack. Also, he somehow turned mean Miss Jordan's hair blue.

Weirdo.

The teachers felt sorry for him, Harry was bright, but obviously was born into a poor background that he couldn't help.

"Hello squirt, you alright back there?" asked a voice. Harry sniffled and quickly wiped his face on his overly-large sleeve.

"Jeah," he mumbled out.

"You should have gone home by now," admonished the kind old voice.

"M'sorry," said Harry meekly.

"I'm Mr. Hawkins, I don't think I've seen you before," said Mr. Hawkins, wondering why he hadn't notice the child slip into his classroom.

"I'm new," replied Harry, who was confused as to why the thin older man was being so nice.

"Ah," Mr. Hawkins frowned at the boy's poor state, but didn't comment on it.

"Want to tell me why you're crying?" asked the teacher carefully, Harry quickly shook his head and backed down, he didn't want to get his new classmates into trouble.

Even if they were meanies.

In his time, Mr. Hawkins, or rather, Arthur Hawkins was a primary school teacher, he had a degree in Egyptology, but with his wife pregnant, he had to use all of his qualifications in other fields to grab whatever job he could, even a low-income one. He still kept contact with Solomon Mutou, but now found himself with a temporary teaching job in England.

"My classroom door is open for you," he didn't know what else he could say.

"What's your name anyway?" he asked as Harry was halfway through the door.

"Harry Potter!"

Freak.

* * *

Harry, despite swollen eyes, smiled when he got 'home'.

He made one friend today, and that's all he needed.

"Boy! Why are you so late?!" snarled Vernon the moment Harry tip-toed in, Petunia grimaced and turned her attention to Dudley.

"I tripped on the way home," lied Harry.

Narrowing his eyes, the grossly obese man glared at him, meaty fist pounding on the table.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon," said Harry robotically, little hands shaking.

"Go to your fucking cupboard, I'll deal with you later!" with that, Vernon picked up his newspaper as Harry whimpered on the way to his little cupboard under the stairs.

* * *

Harry hated his cupboard, he used to love it's sanctuary but was quickly disillusioned of it's protection.

Nasty things could still hurt him. It was an open-prison.

The spiders never bit him and they tickled him at night, but it was dark and small, sometimes it even got hard to breath. It had quickly turned into the waiting room, where he'd sit and anticipate his Uncle's rage in quiet, bitter acceptance.

"Tell nobody", he'd say "Or I'll kill you,"

Nobody wanted to listen anyway.

Quietly he bit into the apple left on the clothes pile that was strewn into a make-shift mattress.

Aunt Petunia left him little bits of food in secret, so he wouldn't die on them, but told Harry to never tell a soul.

Sometimes guilt got to her, but she didn't really care too deeply, or Harry's body wouldn't be marred by so many little bruises. One for every part of unnaturalness that plagued his soul -if he even had one. He was still a little burdensome bastard.

He's still Lily's boy though.

* * *

So that's how it went, Harry slaved over breakfast, went to school, and took his bully-beatings like a good boy.

Everyday at lunch he went to Mr. Hawkins's classroom, Mr. Hawkins ate there as opposed to the staffroom, he didn't like the gossip, plus he could look over old notes of his Egyptology days in peace.

"This is a pyramid Harry," smiled Mr. Hawkins, as Harry hung to his every word, shyly eating the sandwich Mr. Hawkins shared with him. Harry was far too skinny for a nine year old and so the man found himself sharing his lunch with him. Everyday he'd carry a little extra.

Mr. Hawkins showed Harry pictures of his time in Egypt, fascinated, Harry peered at them.

"It's so big and pointy!" he said after a while.

"I know, God could have his eye out if he leaned too close," despite Mr. Hawkins's cheesy sense of humor, Harry giggled at it anyway.

Harry swung his little legs as he bounced in his chair, eager for more stories.

"You think I could have been a Pharaoh or someone back then?" asked Harry innocently, Mr. Hawkins smiled and ruffled Harry's hair affectionately.

"I don't doubt it,"

* * *

**One week later:**

Mr. Hawkins paced around his home with a frown, biting his lip, his fiancee asked if there was something wrong, but he insisted there wasn't.

Harry hadn't come to school for almost a full week.

Mr. Hawkins wasn't a fool, he knew something was wrong when Harry would recoil from his touch, he always treated his own injuries without so much as a tear, Mr. Hawkins had delt with a great deal of Harry's tormentors but the boy still came into his class with bruises. He tried not to rock the boat, but now he worried for Harry's life.

* * *

Four bottles of vodka and an absinthe and one lost job promotion later from Grunnings had led to Harry's current position.

Harry's lips tasted blood, his eyes glued shut with tears, his legs tucked to his chest. He felt his ribcage ache it was too dark to see, his arms were the only thing protecting his body. Moans of pain came from the cupboard under the stairs.

Petunia worried, but did nothing.

"Why is nobody helping me?" croaked out the voice from the cupboard.

Petunia ignored him and carried on doing laundry.

* * *

**Egypt:**

Ishizu sighed tiredly, a bored nine year old was never fun, and currently her 'baby' brother was bored out of his skull. Odion had returned from the outside and the second he came back young Marik was clinging to him.

"What was it like?"

Odion smiled at him, receiving a barrage of questions from the hyperactive boy. Marik perched himself on Odion's lap, curiosity piqued, Odion and Isis could go to the outside so long as the tombkeeper stayed in place, but Marik wanted to go outside so badly it hurt.

Then, Odion came up with an answer.

He handed Marik a small hand-mirror he'd gotten from the market, deciding he'd need it if he had to start wearing the traditional kohl, he'd need it.

Little did he know, he'd brought it from a man named Mr. Nicholas Flamel.

* * *

Long ago an alchemist named Nicholas Flamel stumbled across the secret most longed for by humanity.

Immortality.

He knew of the prophecy, he also knew of several others, the consequences of such -leading him to Egypt, to try to find the spell that would seal the philosopher's stone forever, he knew he would find his answers in Egypt, for their magic had sealed away even the strongest of evils.

A man named Shadi led him to the Kul Elna crypt, where the Millennium Items were sealed. He had been allowed a limited time to read off the walls the ancient spells that had kept Shadow Magic sealed for so long.

"I wish you the best of luck in sealing the stone," said Shadi calmly.

It was through this, that Flamel was able to create an enchanted mirror, the Mirror of Erised to seal the philosopher's stone away forever. On Shadi's advice he created two small mirrors as separate 'keys'. Both small hand-mirrors were linked by magic to the large Mirror of Erised being sent to Hogwarts.

"I will look after one and you may keep the other, that way if any evil should find the full Mirror of Erised, it can be destroyed by breaking these smaller mirrors even though we are far away from the mirror itself," explained Shadi.

Flamel nodded, and forumlated a plan, the best way to hide his key, would be to pass it on, where even he would not know of it's location. It would be best if the mirror simply lost itself in the muggle world like Atlantis, so he sold the mirror on in the Egyptian market, to one Professer Arthur Hawkins.


	2. Ab hinc

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover, my old pilot-fic I never posted, rewritten for my beloved Soubi-bear whom you all know as PyromaniacBlackWings, check her stuff out._

_Yaoi, OOC, Rating to go up to M later. HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!  
_

_I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTERxx_

_

* * *

_

Harry finally attended school again and Mr. Hawkins was relieved.

"What happened Harry?" he asked with a frown, the small boy smiled half-heartedly and cradled his arm which was in a cast.

"I was clumsy,"

Yeah right.

"I'm all better now though," chirped Harry happily. Mr. Hawkins shook his head tiredly and opened up his briefcase, Harry wondered what notes he'd bring out today. Every lunch Mr. Hawkins would share old Egyptology notes and Harry would hang onto his every word.

"Harry," began Mr. Hawkins cautiously.

"Remember when you told me your birthday was coming up? Well... I'm going to be gone for a while," said Mr. Hawkins, rummaging around his briefcase, Harry's eyes widened, he dropped the shared sandwich.

"No!" he screamed suddenly.

"Don't!" he sprung from his chair and wrapped his cast-free arm around Mr. Hawkins in an attempt at a hug, blinking owlishly, Mr. Hawkins reached down and ruffled the nine year old's hair affectionately.

"Don't go," whimpered little Harry.

"I got you this," he handed Harry a small hand mirror, tears came out from the corners of his green eyes, he'd never had a birthday present or anything new. He marveled at it's beauty, it's handle and backing was golden, a small ankh was inscribed on it, the reflective glass itself was flawlessly clear, not a scratch upon it.

"I'm sorry I have to go Harry," he handed Harry a slip of paper and instructions, and after that day, he never saw Mr. Hawkins again.

* * *

Shadi knew the mirror would not react well being kept in the Millennium crypt, so he too passed his on, knowing full-well who would buy it, the Millennium Necklace showing him so before he'd passed it on to Ishizu Ishtar. Who better to look after something that valuable then the Pharaoh's tombkeeper?

So eventually both had ended up in the Egyptian market, Odion buying one, and Professor Hawkins buying the other.

One mirror was in the hands of Marik Ishtar, the other, with Harry Potter.

* * *

Ishizu worried for Marik, he would play with the mirror Odion brought him for _hours._

Odion leaned over Marik's shoulder, and peered at the backwards English inscribed on the handle.

**'Erised straeh ruoy tub ecaf ruoy ton wohs I'**

Marik only knew Arabic and Egyptian(hieroglyph), so he couldn't figure out the sentence even if he tried. Only Ishizu and Odion knew any English, as they dealt a lot with nosy American tourists above-ground.

Then, Odion figured it out.

'I Show Not Your Face But Your Heart's Desire,'

Little Marik saw the outside world for the first time.

He took the mirror to his room, and didn't come out for a good long while.

* * *

Harry got home, did his chores, took his beatings and went to his cupboard. Even the spiders seemed to sense his sadness. Curling up on the pile of clothes, he sniffled quietly as he got the mirror out.

He didn't see his reflection, but Mr. Hawkins which shifted into a man and woman he shared similar features with, hands shaking he reached a finger to touch it.

"Mom? Dad?"

Harry gasped as the mirror's reflective glass rippled like water from his touch, destroying the image of his parents, he almost screamed when he found himself face with another set of eyes, lavender ones, that were not his own.

A blackness unfurled from the mirror and curled around Harry, a blackness also eclipsed the boy on the other side.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was worried, especially when a spirit named Shadi came to visit.

"I am warning you old fool," he said quite coldly, "Do not interrupt the God's will,"

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about," replied Albus in a deathly calm voice, fingering his wand nervously.

"Yes. You. Do."

"-I speak of Harry Potter,"

* * *

"I'm scared," mumbled the nine year old to himself as he walked about the skyless realm, mirror in hand.

"Mom? Dad? Mr. Hawkins?" he called out.

"Ada'tu tareeqi! Hal beemkanek mosa'adati?" screamed a voice back, Harry blinked.

"Pardon?" he asked, looking around wildly for the source, eyes widening when he saw a little boy approaching him, about his age.

"Ada'tu tareeqi!" he screamed again, exclaiming he was lost in Arabic, but Harry couldn't understand a word.

"Do you know where we are?" Harry stammered, both were scared and frightened, so they slowly approached one another. Harry turned a nervous red and looked at the floor, the other boy was dressed in gold and a light white cotton robe, his hair nearly immaculate. Harry knew poor people didn't wear that much gold so his childish mind concluded the boy was probably some rich princely-type.

Little Marik blinked back in confusion.

"Hal tatakallamu alloghah alarabiah?" he replied back in Arabic, asking if Harry knew how to speak it, because his words sounded like pyscho-foreigner-babble.

"M'sorry, I don't get what you're saying Mister," said Harry shyly. "I speak English,"

"Alenjleziah?" English? he queried, he'd heard his siblings talk like that before.

Harry nodded dumbly anyway, not really understanding.

"How do we get out?" asked Harry slowly, trying to use body-language.

"Afwan? A'ed men fadlek?" Marik tilted his head in confusion, asking him to repeat what he said, eventually, Marik got frustrated.

"La afham! La a'ref! La adri!" exclaimed Marik, tears streaming down his face, it eventually got to him. Harry bit his lip and slowly reached out, hoping Marik wouldn't push him away.

They were only nine.

"Don't...don't cry!" he didn't know what else to say, he slowly tore off a bit of his sleeve and Marik hastily grabbed it, wiping his eyes and smearing his kohl off. After a moment of silent panic the two boys stuck to eachother like glue, not knowing how to get out of the Shadow Realm.

"Ma esmouk?" asked Marik innocently, "Esmee _Marik Ishtar_," he pointed at himself at emphasized his name.

"You're saying...you're Marik?" hoped Harry, poking him, "Marik?"

The boy grinned at him and nodded, Harry smiled and placed a hand on his chest.

"Harry Potter,"

Marik continued smiling, despite the situation.

He'd made a strange new friend.


	3. Ad Rem

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover, my old pilot-fic I never posted, rewritten for my beloved Soubi-bear whom you all know as PyromaniacBlackWings, check her stuff out._

_Yaoi, OOC, HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!  
_

_I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTERxx_

_

* * *

_

Harry shuffled closer to the other boy who saw the huge amount of fear in his green eyes, though something about it was unnatural. He was half-scared of Marik too, but they both had to stick close to each other.

"I'm scared," whimpered Harry.

"Anaa khaa-if," Marik returned the sentiment, both nine year old's clung even closer, the further they walked about the darker the world around them became. Palms sweating, Marik quickly grabbed Harry's after glancing behind them.

"Ta'ala ma'ee! Erkud!" little Marik screamed for Harry to come with him and run.

A huge blue dragon was behind them, and was slowly approaching them, looking at them like they were walking-food. Without waiting for Harry to try to figure out what he was saying he grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him into a run.

Both of them joined by the hand, ran along-side the other from the beast behind them. Harry almost soiled himself when he glanced behind him at the ground-breakingly huge beast that stalked them.

Snapping it's jaw hungrily, it let out a huge belch of colored fire, screaming, Harry suddenly made them both stop as the inevitable fire charged their way. Marik yelled until it felt like his throat tore, gripping onto the other so tight it hurt, thinking he would meet inevitable death.

Feeling something weird come over him, like when he turned Miss Jordan's hair blue, shuddering from the feeling a huge jet of light shot from Harry's outstretched hands, a large golden-shimmering wall appeared, Marik slowly cracked open an eyelid, surprised he wasn't dead, he stared in awe at Harry.

Harry let his hands drop to his sides as he felt power feed into the transparent, shimmering wall which swallowed the fire.

Marik and Harry yelped as the terrifying beast pounded against the wall, snapping it's jaws, but held back...barely.

Turning around the boys froze as a tall humanoid-like monster wearing a purple suit of armor pulled them away from the blue eyes white dragon.

"I want to go home!," cried Harry, sniffling loudly, knowing the home he had was only slightly better then being eaten by a dragon. The small blond hooked an arm around Harry's shoulder, not taking his eyes of the humanoid for a minute. He didn't know what was going on, but he wasn't about to leave the other boy alone.

The Dark Magician pointed at the mirror at Marik's side, slowly, the Egyptian got it out and Harry nervously did the same.

"Please don't hurt us," squeaked little Harry, hastily wiping his eyes.

Marik looked in surprise as Harry held an identical mirror, the Dark Magician nodded and smiled under his helmet, then slowly kneaded his fingers together, to symbolize the mirrors.

Staring at one another they slowly brought their mirror's closer, feeling an almost magnetic friction between them.

Marik stared at the first boy his age he'd ever met, and Harry stared back, as the handles of their mirrors touched, whiteness eclipsed them.

* * *

Marik let out an uncomfortable noise as he crashed onto his bed, mirror in hand.

He'd been to the land inscribed on the walls of the Pharaoh's tomb, the world of monsters...the Shadow Realm.

He had extended physical contact with a person his age, a _weird_ kid, a weird_ foreign _kid...who apparently could hold off _dragons._

The power he saw confused him, his family had practiced magic for generations but none of it had been quite like _that._

Little Marik didn't touch the screen of the mirror for weeks, but would often make faces and play games with the boy on the other side, even though they couldn't understand each other, it was the only thing aiding their slim, fragile grip on sanity.

* * *

Ishizu soothed Odion's worries for Marik, he even threatened to take the mirror from him when he saw Marik get sucked into it, the boys figured out when they touched it in unison, they'd get transported, and walking too deeply into the Shadows was a bad idea, but there was a safe area.

So Odion would watch Marik disappear, then when he returned, he'd tell him secret stories of the games he'd play with Harry, because using body-language to interact did get pretty funny.

Odion was terrified of the anger he saw when he threatened to take the mirror away, so he and Ishizu let their baby brother have his special secret friend.

* * *

Some days, Marik would be close to bawling when he saw his friend again but incredibly hurt, and what frustrated the little boy even more was that he couldn't understand Harry. He wanted to know who hurt him, and even though he didn't quite understand his own festering anger, he wanted to _kill them -_along with a few others who hindered both he, and Harry's freedom.

There would be days when Harry would look so pained it almost hurt to look at him. Sometimes Marik's own father would go on about his planned destiny as tombkeeper, and very quietly in Arabic to Harry that he was scared, that he wasn't ready, that he didn't want this, knowing full-well that Harry would not judge him.

Though he hoped the day they understood one another, Harry still would not judge.

* * *

One day, when Harry went to school, he went to the computer room on his break.

"Mr. Masson," he asked shyly, "Could you help me do an internet search?"

Mr. Masson smiled at the curious child and readily agreed, the old man could see why Hawkins had taken to Harry during his brief teaching period. They walked around the stuffy IT suite and started up a computer, he watched as Harry misspelled 'Languages'. Raising an eyebrow he watched the nine year old click around, he gently guided him.

"What are you trying to find?" asked Mr. Masson.

"Trying to find out wah my friend speaks," said Harry innocently, tongue out to his cheek with an expression of deep thought.

His eyes lit up when he found an audio clip of what sounded like the type of thing Marik spoke.

"Arabic?" asked Mr. Masson, eyebrow shooting into hairline, "I think I can help,"

* * *

**Elsewhere:**

"He needs protection, he must come to Hogwarts when he is of age!" insisted Dumbledore, as Shadi stared at him completely unimpressed.

"I will protect him enough," retorted Shadi.

"He needs to learn what his magic is! Harry needs us!"

"If you truly thought that old man, you would be at his side, listening to his woes, helping him. If you love him as you say you do then why do you insist he be brought back to a home where he is abused?" said Shadi in a simple flat voice.

Albus Dumbledore was actually left speechless.

* * *

Everyday, every few hours, Harry would be reading Arabic textbooks like "تعلم اللغة العربية" he had gotten from the library from Mr. Masson's card. In between scrubbing floors, making dinner and school classes he'd been soaking up information at a monstrously fast rate.

"Stupid Potty!" sniggered Gordon.

"Ohh what's this then? Potter learning how to speak Freak as well as act like one?" laughed Dudley, grabbing the book from his lap. Eyes narrowing, Harry quickly dove under Gordon's legs and kneed Dudley in the crotch, as his cousin howled in pain Harry grabbed the book and ran like his life depended on it.

Because it did.

* * *

Odion snarled with anger when Marik told him stories about Harry, he had no problem with Harry but Odion was older and wiser -and was quickly able to piece together who was hurting Marik's friend.

His guardians most likely.

It slowly began to madden him when Marik would come back so upset that not even Ishizu could comfort him.

Marik's father never really bothered asking why, and the secret of Marik and his mirror was kept quiet between the siblings. Marik deserved something, especially when the freedom he longed for, would never be given to him.

When Marik went through the mirror for the first time in a week, he almost died of joy when Harry smiled and greeted him simply.

In _Arabic_.

"Ahlan sadiqi,"

Hello friend.


	4. Tnemelifed

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover, _

_Yaoi, OOC, HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!  
_

_I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTER xx_

* * *

Eagerly, Marik and Harry began talking in simple Arabic, sometimes, Harry's pronunciation got a bit iffy or he didn't understand what was said, Marik would help and correct.

"I don't want you to go," said Harry quietly, pouting. Marik grinned and promised he wouldn't, and he didn't want to be a tombkeeper and Odion wasn't allowed to take his place. Harry frowned, _it wasn't fair on Marik!_

"One day we won't have to deal with mean people," said Harry, both of them sat up by each other.

"And we'll meet for reals!" added Harry excitedly.

"Promise?"

"I Promise,"

* * *

**Ishtar Home, Marik's 10th Birthday:**

"But I don't want to!" screamed Marik his shirtless-body writhing under his father's strength, Odion had been beaten unconscious, and Ishizu could do nothing. A hot knife in Mr. Ishtar's hands as he pushed it into the flesh of Marik's back. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his body shook under the pain, candles danced as the knife seared into his delicate flesh.

"-Please! Father! Stop!" he screamed until hoarse, his body collapsing to the ground as the knife continued it's journey across his back.

"I don't want to be a tombkeeper! Father please, _please..._" he never stopped begging.

Eventually the pain caused him to pass out, something evil within him was born, when he opened his eyes, they were vacant.

The knife was on the floor when the Pharaoh's story had finally been carved, he grabbed the Millennium Rod from it's stand calmly.

"Put that down," commanded Mr. Ishtar angrily, eyes wide as his son, looked at him with the expression of a demon, then the horrifying truth dawned upon him.

His own son was going to kill him.

Mr. Ishtar screamed so loud the entire underground could hear as the point of the fallen knife was driven repeatedly through his chest, blood splaying everywhere.

When little Marik awoke, he saw his father's corpse, and Shadi beside it.

"The Tombkeeper's clan has been broken," he said simply.

Marik couldn't remember a thing, but he was sure of one thing.

_Shadi killed his father,_ Ishizu never corrected him otherwise.

* * *

The pain had been so intense that Marik lay on his stomach for thirty days of agony, soothed only by his mirror and his siblings. The Millennium Rod had been claimed into his possession, something about it gave him security. Ishizu had been too frightened to dare remove it from him, not after she witnessed Yami Malik kill their own father.

When he visited Harry, his mouth fell open in soft horror.

"Harry?"

His body, almost dead, dragged across the floor, on all fours Harry pushed himself to Marik.

"Marik! Uncle Vernon--"

"-his friends they--"

He just bawled, green eyes bloodshot, with a horrifying amount of blood around his tattered trousers. Marik felt older and wiser now, and a dark part of him softly and mockingly cooed in his mind.

_It looks like they got to Harry's body too._

"Marik, w--what's that on your back?" asked Harry as he wiped his tears on his sleeve, he stared at the blackening tattoo-like inked carving on his back, and the morose smile on his friends face.

"You're a tombkeeper now?" he managed.

"Not exactly. Father's dead," Marik smiled sadly.

"Does it--" Harry faltered, "-hurt?" it looked sore, painfully so.

"A bit," admitted the Ishtar awkwardly.

Harry dragged himself behind Marik, who stiffened, and let out a soft noise of surprise as his cheeks reddened. A pair of moist pink lips pressed to his back, sending a flurry of butterflies in his stomach, Harry had _kissed._..his_ back?_

"Why..?" he whispered confused as his naive friend crawled infront of him with a confused smile of his own.

"Isn't that what I am supposed to do?" he tilted his head, innocent green eyes emphasized more behind bottle-glasses.

"I mean, if something hurts, kiss it better... right?" that's what he'd seen Petunia do with Dudley, and mothers with their children. Slowly, the blushing Ishtar began to laugh, wrapping his arms around his silly friend.

"You're really naive you know that?"

"Now tell me what they did to you," Harry shook his head, and buried into Marik's shoulder, he sighed and cradled his friend.

For Harry, this was all he had left.

* * *

**Next Day, Ishtar Home:**

Yami Malik grinned as he took over the mind of his host, his innocence would be a thing of the past. The Millennium Rod fuelled an ever-burning rage at the Pharaoh, who's essence still existed, which needed to be destroyed.

"I'm sorry," he said, or rather, his lighter half said through the mirror as he smacked it off the wall, shattering it completely.

Yami Malik would only hurt Harry, and Harry had been hurt enough.

* * *

A long thin crack ran through the larger Mirror of Erised within Hogwarts, an almost non-existent faded image, of a stone, was thinly visible.

Albus worried.

* * *

**Dursley Household (Dawn):**

"Take it! Take it!" screamed Petunia, wide eyes filled with a void of insanity as she threw things at Harry. Dudley had been locked into his room and Vernon was passed out in the basement from poker-night. Yesterday, Petunia made Harry deliver drinks down the basement to Vernon's seedy poker-buddies, as she was secretly too frightened.

That night, she heard nothing but the screams of an innocent boy's defilement. When he staggered up with bloodshot eyes and blood covered trousers around his waist and rear, her fears were confirmed.

"Write the note! So those freaks don't blame us!" a knife in Petunia's unstable fingers as she forced Harry to write a runaway-note, this way it would look like he ran away when those -freaks- came searching.

Petunia threw a bag of supplies at Harry, shoving notes of cash, travel booklets and anything she could find.

"Go! Never come back! I don't like you_ boy,_" "But I never agreed to..._that_ happening!" refering to Harry's forced defilement.

"Such sinful filth!" whispered Aunt Petunia to herself, eyes narrowed at the knife held oddly in her hand, squeezing so tight the blade gently sank into the flesh of her palm, sending soft streams of blood dripping to the floor. Her usually neat hair was scraggly and hanging out from a messy bun, she looked unstable.

"Get out of this house! Never come back you walking sin," she howled, throwing more things into Harry's hand-me-down rucksack.

Harry was a freak. Therefore sin.

To force yourself upon another is a sin, and it happened to the freak in her household, tripling the evil that surrounded her house now Lily had died.

So she would be reborn once the house was cleansed of Harry, so either he would have to go, or he would die.

Harry left.

Petunia smiled, as redemption felt a little closer to her.

* * *

**Egypt Airlines:**

It was easier to believe the boy in the mirror had never existed, and over the years Marik tried to delete it from his mind, simply convincing himself of his own insanity. It was just easier to believe that Harry had been the product of his bored childish mind, the more he thought about it the more he wanted to believe Harry was never real.

The idea of willingly leaving somebody so close to him was just too painful.

Odion and Ishizu never spoke of it, they never brought it up.

Yami Malik was slowly taking over a once kind and innocent boy, he boarded the plane to Japan with Rod packed, passing security and prepared for a long uncomfortable plane-ride.

_The Pharaoh must die._

_

* * *

_

Harry didn't know what to do or where to go, but he still had that slip of paper Mr. Hawkins had given him all those years ago. Rucksack strapped to his back, he walked to a phone-box, he was a big boy now and knew how to use them.

'If anything bad happens, call for Professor Yoshimori, he will know who you are'

He called the number on the paper, Shadi smiled from a distance, though Hawkins wasn't around...

-at least someone made provisions for Harry Potter, and like a late guardian angel, Shadi watched over the raven-haired boy in respect for people who couldn't anymore.

* * *

_xxx End Chapter xxx_


	5. Street Rat

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover, _

_Yaoi, OOC, HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!....GuardianShadi?!O_o  
_

_I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTER xx_

_

* * *

_

**England:**

Harry plodded down the street, he needed somewhere to go, so he continued down Wisteria walk. He ignored the feeling of helplessness, even though it showed dreadfully in his expression. He pulled a face at the semi-vandalized bus-stop a distance away. Sighing, Harry began to walk toward it, knowing he would be sleeping there tonight.

Shadi frowned as he prepared to transport to the Millennium crypt, Harry was in for much hard living.

Curling up in the bus-stop, Harry brought his rucksack to his chest and cuddled it to his chest.

His mirror wouldn't reach Marik anymore, all he had left, had gone.

The cold air tightened around him as the hours began to slowly pass by, and Harry was trying to figure out Yoshimori's location, with the man's address scrawled on his hand.

* * *

**Japan:**

Smirking, the ship came in at the private harbour, the same day Marik had been flown in to Japan he immediately used his Millennium Rod to hijack a boat of his own.

He decided he _hated_ plane travel. He used the ship to import mind-slaves, who better to bring down Yugi Mutou then former foes?

All he had to do, was comb Japan until Yugi was found, he didn't care if it took him years.

He had waited his entire life for the moment.

Ishizu got a job working for a string of museums -he didn't really care, Odion remained by his side, but said nothing about the broken mirror that had been packed along with the clothes. The sun began to rise and a string of dead-eyed men began to walk in a haunting unison down the ship-bridge to the harbour.

Marik smiled, all of these people were _his._

* * *

**England:**

Harry rubbed sleep out of his eyes, he had not rested well, his back was in pain and his stomach growled. Ignoring all of this, he stared at the address on his hand, slowly threatening to become semi-smeared. He began to walk out of the bus-stop, ignoring the unforgiving feeling that all had been lost.

Yoshimori was his only hope.

The downside? He was a town away, all the way in Little Harlington.

He didn't know how to catch a bus, nor did he know when it would arrive, and with Arabella Figg's stone-hard willpower, a search-party would be out as soon as somebody bothered to note he'd gone.

Harry glanced at the A-Z roadmap book Petunia had packed, he thanked every deity he'd paid attention in Geography. After thirty minutes of fumbling he found which street he was on, and quickly marked the long doodle of roads that transcended several pages, which would lead him to Little Harlington.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step.

He ignored the feeling of utter fear in his lower stomach as he walked down unfamiliar roads comforted only by the huge meat-knife crammed in the bag. It seems despite her frenzy, Petunia had thought of everything. It was his only means of protection, unaware of the watching spirit who also hoped to guide him.

His feet began to ache, but he ignored it, his stomach rumbled but was thankfully saved by a church giving free-lunches, he then carried on his way.

* * *

"I'm going to die," moaned Harry to himself, pushing down the hot moist tears as he walked down an empty road. Fear clenched his stomach, a black car with tinted windows began to follow him. Eyes wide he quickened his pace, pretending not to have noticed. He felt something powerful in his legs, more-so then adrenaline, grabbing his rucksack straps extra-tightly be began to bolt down the road. His speed was irregular, it was like seeing a moving blur, his magic kicked in to preserve him from danger.

He stopped when he took a detour to lose the car, then went back onto his path at normal pace. Panting and wanting to drop to his knees, his rucksack felt heavier, his body felt sleepier, his movements were sluggish.

Harry ignored the odd stare from civilians as he looked for a place to rest, anywhere sheltered would do.

To his horror he noticed the clouds darken, so he backed into an alleyway and hid himself in the shadows of dumpsters, whilst wanting to vomit from the smell. He leaned on his large rucksack which was almost as big as him, and tried to sleep, ignoring soft droplets of water which soon poured down as rain.

Shivering, Harry was glad his hand-me-downs were too big, they could be used for comfort though were no substitute for a coat. He had a black towel packed, towels had _many _uses.

Keeping dry, blanket, if rolled up, then as a pillow, even as 'slings' for broken body parts, towels really did have a million and one uses.

He decided to leave it in his bag and would use it to dry himself from the rain in the morning when it'd stop, so he would sleep blanket-less tonight to keep the towel dry.

* * *

Shadi occasionally disappeared from the crypt to check on Harry's state, frowning as the water hit the shivering, sleeping boy pressed against his bag behind the dumpster. Going down on one knee, he pushed something into Harry's tiny palm.

Eyes darting open, Harry saw nobody, but a compact umbrella was in his hands...

* * *

Next morning, Harry got up, dried off with his towel and packed it away. He got out onto the street and began to continue his journey, ignoring his growling stomach. For days he slept in secluded, dark places, anywhere he felt was safe, terrified of the shady characters he saw along the way. He ate whatever he could steal, his clothes were becoming worn and a smell of homelessness began to settle upon him from lack of showering, but it seemed he had a guardian angel he was unaware of.

Or he would have died the first night.

* * *

The feeling of fear was constant, he decided to stop and ask for directions, incase he wasn't quite grasping map-reading properly. Little Harry walked into the red-light district, and saw a lot of weird looking women, shyly he went up to one wearing nothing but a ridiculously short shirt stretched past her stomach just past her rear.

"Looking for someone to tuck you in squirt?" her voice was gruff and masculine, "her" legs were semi-shaven, and the heels of her red shoes were half-broken. 'She' was also winking far too much, and was scaring Harry slightly.

Harry looked up, innocently and confused.

"Hi Mister-Ma'am," he said awkwardly, not sure if he was talking to a man or a woman, it was infact, a transvestite man.

"Could you tell me how far Shawcross is from here?" asked Harry shyly, the blatant come-on had gone completely over his head.

"There's a shortcut if you take a left from Parkhall Road, which is a mile down that way," thumbed the prostitute, pointing to a shadowy alley on the left. Pushing up his taped-glasses he flashed an adorably wide smile.

"Thank you Mister-Ma'am!" he waved as he ran off down the dangerous road, whilst a distantly watching Shadi smacked his hand to his head in frustration at the scene.

The naive little squirt really did need watching over.

* * *

The alley was narrow, it was dark, smelled of urine and was damn scary, he felt lost both outside and inside, the streets were too dangerous for children. His shoulders were slouched, his glasses did nothing to hide the massive amounts of childish innocence, however, from the expression on his face he resembled a filthy angel fallen far from grace into a trashcan.

He wanted to go home, but he had none, if Yoshimori had nothing for him, then he was finished.

Harry had knocked on what felt like a thousand doors, each one getting further into the ghetto then he would like to go, each door slammed in his face.

"This is it, the last door," croaked Harry, wiping his snotty nose on his sleeve, having caught a cold from the rain. Weakly he knocked it, shivering on the spot, his eyes slowly looked up as the door opened.

A rather clean-shaven, brown-haired man, resembling a teacher in appearance opened the door.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Mister Yoshimori,"

"That's me,"


	6. Search for Hawkins

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover, _

_Yaoi, OOC, HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!....GuardianShadi?!O_o  
_

_I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTER xx_

_

* * *

_

**England:**

He had to track down his own legal documents using Yoshimori's help, without attracting attention. He was given some old clothes, and Yoshimori let him use his shower to wash off the 'traveller's-grime' that had attached itself to his body. Harry felt like a fish out of water, troutsing around someone else's home, in a strange foreign town.

"Hawkins left his old Egyptology notes for you," said Yoshimori, passing over a dusty aluminium briefcase that Harry remembered from the days he and Hawkins spent lunch together.

"Thank you Mister Yoshimori,"

"Call me Yoshi," said the man casually.

"What...happened to him?" asked Harry cautiously at the dinner table, Yoshimori demanded he stay after seeing the boy's miserable state. He obviously had no travel-experience.

"Who?" asked Yoshimori raising an eyebrow after taking a long sip of tea.

"Hawkins," asked Harry, his heart racing, hoping to every God that he was still alive.

"I do not know," frowned Yoshimori, "His wife was giving birth to Rebecca when he left, I lost all contact with him after he visited me following his wife's hospital-stay,"

Harry suddenly knew what he needed to do, before, he didn't really know where his life was going, and when the mirror stopped connecting to his friend, a part of him died. For years and years existence had been hard, but his friend always made it easier. Even before he and Marik had understood each other, comfort was taken from mere the presence of the other. After a while they had gotten close enough to understand the other, and for the first time, on the awful night where abuse went too far, _Marik had been there._

Harry had been held, soothed, comforted, all of which, Hawkins could never do the way Marik Ishtar did.

Arthur Hawkins never knew the extent of the abuse.

Harry wasn't ready to let those two people go so easily.

"Harry?" asked Yoshimori quite softly, noticing Harry's blank, distant stare, but that's not what bothered him. Yoshimori passed a tissue to the small boy, who had tears running down his cheeks, but didn't realize.

"Stay here the night," insisted Yoshimori, "This area at night is no place for a child,"

Harry gave his thanks, and was led to a guest room.

"Do you have the number of your guardians?" asked Yoshimori, Harry couldn't possibly be travelling alone.

"Uhm.." "I'm travelling with one of them, they are uh.... finding a hotel, they know I'm here though, we're meeting up in the morning," lied Harry, feeling sweat moisten his palm from lying so much. The last thing he needed was Yoshimori to contact the authorities and be dragged to his death at the Dursleys.

"Ah, very well,"

* * *

The journey had been agony on his bruised-up body, his ribs seemed to have healed up with the rest, and he found himself staring up at the ceiling. He'd miss the comfy bed, but he had to track down Hawkins, he wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling the man was in danger.

But even a sneakily-watching Shadi knew, this wasn't the only feeling settling in Harry's heart. Harry grabbed the Arabic book he never returned and began to read through it, practising out his Arabic.

Shadi didn't even need the Millennium Key to access Harry's mind and tell him _why_ Harry was doing it.

He was doing it, to feel close to Marik again, even though their connection was severed.

Harry groaned when he flicked to his A-Z roadmap, apparently Hawkins often went all over the world, the nearest airport was towns away! Just getting to Harlington was agony!

Harry got up, had breakfast, said his goodbyes to Yoshimori, and began walking to the coast of town, knowing there was only one viable option of travel left. A port, sneaking on a ship would be a far easier way of moving from country to country, the security was far more lax to sneak past.

So, Harry doodled out another path, and began to long trek to the port.

He ended up planning a little heist on the way, he grinned at the huge superstore, and easily walked into the camping supplies and stole a sleeping bag, and many tinned foods, a lighter, pocket knife, first aid kit and some basics he thought he'd need.

Harry quickly slipped back out in a crowd, but the shopping-item-tag alarm went off, alerting everyone, Harry took the moment of panic to flee inconspicuously.

He kept all his money for meals and emergencies.

* * *

Harry's legs walked for days, with only short intervals for sleep, until he reached a port lined with huge ships for companies, cargo and the odd general-sailor.

Harry hid behind a pile of dumped crates a distance from the pier, listening to people talk, his heart pounded wildly in his ears.

"-Taking this cargo abroad, Norway,"

"-Setting off for Egypt tonight though-," Harry's ears pricked up, he snuck aboard.

Harry fell asleep in a mess of crates in the cargo base, he wasn't sure how many days he'd been there, but when he got off, he felt the full heat beat down upon him.

Shadi smiled, feeling better being closer the Millennium Items and Harry at the same time.

* * *

**Egypt:**

The city of Cairo seemed almost tailored for tourists, which was lucky for Harry, as he had easier access to a range of resources for getting around. He did some shifty trades for Eastern currency, and then began to take a historical trip with the tour guides. He walked with a bunch of loud, overexcited tourists, Harry and the tour guide were the only ones who spoke Arabic, they relied heavily on them both.

Harry rented a cheap room at a seedy hotel, and was quickly earning money through translating for people on his first few days and lived on packed, tinned foods he lived on during travels.

Harry was surprised to see monsters on the walls of tombs, he spent day adding to Hawkins notes.

This had to be one of his callings, though something funny in his chest ached, Shadi knew why, but Harry didn't.

Secretly, Harry was subconsciously looking for a certain someone, other then Arthur Hawkins.

* * *

_xxxEndChapxxx_

_R&R...review...please? _


	7. The Egyptian Hekans

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover,_

_Yaoi, OOC, HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!...(For those confused about ages & timelines, this chapter should clear it up, as should a quick A/N at the end as a summarized nutshell)  
_

_I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTER xx_

_

* * *

_

**Egypt:**

Shadi watched Harry grow into a dangerous teen, he was sixteen now, and lived his life phasing through seedy hotel after hotel, Shadi's only comfort was 'It's Better Then The Slums' for Harry -but not_ that _much better. He'd been on the run since he was ten roughly, spending his life in Egypt doing any quick job on the side of translation for money. It was hard because he wasn't there legally.

Harry's hair reached his waist in length, his previously skinny little body had gained slight muscle definition and weight, wounds melted into scars, glasses discarded, the only thing that Shadi could even equate with the 'old-Harry' anymore was the fact he secretly flicked through his beginner's Arabic textbook when he thought nobody was around.

He had long since surpassed his childish-formal Arabic, and being around native speakers helped him become less formal, and more fluent in his speaking. In short, Harry didn't need his beginner's Arabic book, but he flicked through it for it's sentimental value, on the inside cover, scrawled in English were the words:

_"I Miss Him,"_

* * *

**Japan:**

For years, Marik had been gathering followers and rare cards, creating a near-global army for the day he and the Pharaoh would do battle. At sixteen, he had come far from being the innocent boy who wanted to see the world. Over time, Yami Malik became more prominent, Marik himself was colder, sadistic and so much more different.

Odion wondered sometimes, if Marik even remembered the boy the mirror. Sometimes Odion did, because as a child after each visit with his friend, Marik would come back almost totally different. He was happier, more affectionate, even to his father whom he loathed. For years since he was eleven, all Marik did was travel corners of the globe gathering up small armies.

Odion stared at the shattered hand-mirror, it was still kept preserved in a box of it's own, if Odion was ever caught near it, Marik would probably kill him.

When Odion reached that mental conclusion, perhaps one small -minuscule- part of his brother still remembered, and it gave the older Ishtar hope.

Perhaps Marik was not beyond repair.

Ishizu now not only worked for a string of museums, but headed an important archaeological investigation into the Valley of Kings, taking over from Professor Kanekura who arrogantly appointed himself after the mysterious disappearance of Arthur Hawkins.

* * *

**Egypt:**

"Wake up," said a voice softly, Harry's head rested against a bloodied pillow, his scar had been bleeding again in his nightmare ridden sleep. Since Harry's eleventh birthday it had been this way, he didn't understand_ why_. For years Shadi had been protecting the Millennium Items and Harry, trying to protect him from the wizards (including Dumbledore). The less association he had with them, the longer it would stall the Great Evil that threatened Harry's existence. Shadi couldn't mask Harry's magical trace for long, he just needed too until he thought Harry could learn to protect himself.

"Who are you?" screamed Harry, eyes wide with fear as he grabbed a knife off his dresser, sat upright in his bed, with a panicked expression as he stared at the turbaned spirit in his hotel room.

"I am Shadi," smiled the spirit, trying to soothe the hardened wizard.

"Please don't be alarmed, I'm trying to help you, as I have for several years,"

Harry's life changed forever from that one confrontational encounter.

* * *

**That Night (Millennium Crypt):**

There were specific reasons why Shadi hid Harry not only from Voldemort, but also from Dumbledore.

On his eleventh, Harry would have been dragged off to Hogwarts if not for Shadi, who did it for Harry Potter's own good. If he had gone to Hogwarts, he would not have learned the true root of all magic, far more powerful then the watered down wizard's way. It would have made Harry's magical core even weaker to have practice the watered down ways of wizards.

Part of Shadi felt bad, because he was keeping Harry from half of his heritage, and what truly happened to his parents.

"You need to train your magic Harry," said Shadi, as if he hadn't just dropped a bombshell to Harry about the Millennium Items.

"To protect the items right? But isn't that your job?" said Harry confused, as he walked about the Millennium Crypt, having been dragged out in his PJs by a loony spirit.

"No, you are to protect the item bearers, and yourself," said Shadi illusively, confusing Harry even more.

"Protect myself and the bearers from what?! I don't understand!" replied Harry, shaking his head in confusion as his fingers ran over the elegantly carved hieroglyphs.

"The Great Evil that threatens us all," said Shadi, ghosting around the crypt, letting Harry's fingers glide over the hieroglyphic-ally recorded ritual.

"Shadi! What is this!?" said Harry, jerking suddenly out of his awe-mesmerized state, making Shadi turn around quickly to see Harry glaring at a piece of wall. Harry's green eyes were always expressive, if you asked anyone that met him what his most beautiful feature was, they would say his eyes. Looking at him, Shadi couldn't see anymore innocence, there was just a confidence that was almost deadly.

"This. Tell me what this is. Now," growled Harry, palms pressed against the wall.

"The Pharaoh's Story," said Shadi calmly as an ocean of fire swam in Harry's eyes.

"Why is this familiar to me?" demanded Harry, shoulders shaking, fingers almost scratching the walls. Shadi didn't voice his thoughts but Harry looked awfully unstable, and what was more worrying was the heartache showing on his face.

The Pharaoh's Story, was what was marked upon the body of the tombkeepers, and upon a certain person Harry had not seen for what felt like decades.

* * *

**Timeskip:**

Under Shadi's advice, Harry sought out the underground wizards, who practised the ancient ways of Egyptian sorcerory, they were a cult of stray wizards who sought the knowledge of their forefathers. Upon finding their underground dojo-of-sorts beneath the ghost town of Kul Elna, Harry was almost killed.

"State your name and business here!" said a gruff voice in tight, formal Arabian. Surrounding Harry in fighting poses, were three males, dressed beautifully to hide thin, strong protective plates around their bodies.

"Harry Potter!" they all seemed to halt, their blades inches from Harry's flesh, though to Harry's credit he was completely and utterly calm.

"I wish to join your.... community," said Harry, eyes completely on the blade closest to his throat.

On the request of their leader, they backed down, as one male circled Harry, eyeing him critically.

"_Really..?_," half purred, half drawled the male, eyeing Harry's hip-length hair with a predatory smirk.

"Well, one-with-girly-hair, let's see if you meet the first requirement, we're an all male coven," the man dove forward, and crotch-grabbed Harry who's eyes shot fro m half-lidded to wide-eyed-shock and shrunken pupils. The other males snickered at Harry who was too shocked to react, other then blush profusely, entire face red.

"Okay, so you're male," said the outspoken leader, drawing his hand back from Harry's crotch.

"God! I--I'm not _that_ androgynous!" said Harry, snapping out of his shocked state, squashing out the blush on his face.

After three hours of interrogation, they let Harry into their band of sorcerers, but only after branding an ankh on his bicep, claiming it had oath magic that would force him to keep their ways secret or he'd face death. Harry spent the year learning the root of all magic, with three wizards named Asmodeus Filch, Ali Bashir and Fernando Savage. Harry didn't know their life stories nor did he care, Ali would go on about how he wanted to set up a flying-carpet business occasionally, Asmodeus would occasionally get angry that his grandfather hated him, and Harry didn't know much about Fernando, other then his father was some type of authority-figure -likely a cop.

Harry couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd been on the surface, he spent an entire year doing nothing but intense training. He had to put his search for Hawkins to a halt, there hadn't been any leads for months though.

Harry learned that languages didn't just come in the form of words, and the word language itself was just a term for what we used to communicate feelings, opinions and commands. Magic worked much the same way, it responded to fellow magic-holders, and required commands, modern-wizards literally spoke to magic through the ancient language of Latin. This was a weak form of commanding magic, as they simply commanded it, and did not _work with it._

Harry hated the protocol, he loathed the obsession with perfection the other wizards had, who came to be called 'The Hekans' which after countless reporters from foreign news outlets tried investigating for a story, they were soon famously 'The Hekan Warriors', hardly ever seen by Egypt. The unspoken protectors of their ancient magical history.

They became known for their synced movements -even when fighting-, there was always an unspoken leader whenever they went into public -usually Harry.

The Power The Dark Lord Knows Not, lay within the Hekan's use of ancient magic, ancient _Egyptian_ magic.

_The Hekan's used Egyptian spells, but mainly channelled their magic the way most did, by commanding it. Not through wand and Latin, no no._

_The all natural way, Magic responded to ancient dialects -though not to it's full potential, as verbal language was far too divided. Magic was pure, and responded best to one universal language....movement._

They became known not only for grace, sync and fighting but for there physically impressive acrobatic skill that took months and hours of training and working out. After arguing, they finally agreed to incorporate almost martial-art-esque movements.

"We're so freaking badass," said Ali, grinning as he read a newspaper documenting them as 'dangerously skilled warriors' though it downplayed their occult relations.

"I know, we're awesome," replied Fernando.

"Ahem, has this egocentric circle-jerk ended?" snapped Asmodeus, as Harry finished his magical practice.

"I have news, drag yourself here Harry," Asmodeus was smiling, which was weird for everyone because the Filch-boy _never_ smiled.

"A woman named Ishizu is heading a dig in the Valley of Kings, and is transporting numerous Egyptian artefacts of unimaginable worth to a Japanese museum, and we've been...hired," said Asmodeus, pacing around the underground.

"Hired?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, she wants us to personally guard her, and her artefacts," said Asmodeus "-and of course, she's paying us,"

"Why us though? We don't have the friendliest reputation," stated Ali dryly.

"Why not? We're the deadliest group of fighters this side of Egypt," said Fernando, chirping up.

"Happy sixteenth Harry, we're going to Japan!" grinned Asmodeus to Harry, who groaned as he stretched his sore muscles.

"Joy," spat Harry sarcastically, "Except I don't have my passport or anything!"

"The Egyptian embassy is taking care of it, and we also fall under the Cultural Protections Act, there's a huge uproar about us going over there as warriors but they don't have much of a choice," explained Asmodeus.

"Wait...a dig in the Valley of Kings..." murmured Harry to himself, maybe this 'Ishizu' lady knew what happened to one, Arthur Hawkins? In his notes, he had headed it for a while prior to Kanekura's takeover...

* * *

**Britain:**

Quirinus Quirrell angrily stormed out of Hogwarts, it seemed to whole magical world was searching for Harry Potter who didn't even attend Hogwarts! His master, was most displeased. They'd been searching almost six years for their missing saviour.

_"...You will find him or you will die and I will find a more successful host..."_ hissed a snake-like voice from his turban, Quirinus apologized profusely as he walked.

_"I will find you Potter, even if I have to use our minds..."_

_

* * *

_

**xxxEndChapterxxx**

_**To clear up confusion:**_

_**Timeline summary: Chapters 1-3 Marik&Harry aged 9, Chapter 4 Marik is 11, Chapter 5 Harry is 10, Chapter 6 Harry is 11, In this chapter the teen years of the two are explained. In the beginning of this chapter, Harry was 15 (living 4-5 years in Egypt previously),and training one year with the Hekans, he's now 16 by the end of this chapter. Marik=16(the age when he made his début in 'The Mysterious Duelist')**_


	8. Forfilling Promises

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover, _

_Yaoi, OOC, HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!... This will be a slightly A.U form of Season 2, ...okay VERY a.u, Marik is already in Japan, and Slifer has already found it's way to Yugi's deck, and well... it progresses from this point.  
_

_I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTER xx_

_

* * *

_

The Hekan's stationed themselves around several disguised trucks when their jet had landed, above each truck a warrior sat on the roof, masked with invisibility. Harry shivered, the Hekan garbs were designed for the desert, but Filch had a fetish for tradition, so he made them continue to wear it even in a colder country out of 'protocol', Harry personally thought Filch just liked to see them squirm.

When the trucks came to a halt outside Domino museum, Harry groaned, though apparently the lady who hired them spoke fluent Arabic and English.

He remembered he didn't know a drop of Japanese! Thankfully Filch had designed some more rules, requiring that they do not speak until spoken too, they wanted to maintain a certain image, one of mystery as well as deadliness.

"Hekans, on behalf of Domino I welcome you to Japan," said a feminine voice in Arabic as the warriors leaped into view, landing in unison to the floor with Harry marching infront.

"Miss Ishizu, the items have arrived without a hitch," said Asmodeus flatly. Ishizu, despite all her visions took a moment to stare at the Hekans, Harry smiled graciously at her and bowed, the others followed suit. Harry's hair was tied back loosely at the nape of his neck in a hip-length ponytail, his tan was already fading, the Hekans all sported unusual garbs. They looked almost like the warriors from the old times. Their bodies had thin plates of gold strapped around their midsection, ankles and wrists, deep blood-red baggy shorts that ended and clung around the knee. Above that was a layer of white silken wrap-around clothe tied up by a knot to their left thigh. The other three had loose linen-white shirts that were slashed at the left shoulder and hung down their shoulder blades to reveal the ankh branding.

Harry's was similar however it was shorter and revealed an unprotected stomach, lined with defined muscle, Harry always wondered why Filch gave him the most revealing clothes. Instead of being barefoot like normal, they sported flat white fighting-shoes, designed for ultimate comfort.

Upon their faces, were kohl beneath their eyes, and in their hair, there were golden and red bands that a veil hung from, but they had all brought their veils back to proudly show who they were.

A man stepped into the Domino museum, the elite four span around immediately and struck a fighting stance.

"Calm down, I invited Mr. Kaiba here," said Ishizu.

"This had better be worth my time," grunted the brown-haired millionaire.

The four followed in unison, in silence, as Ishizu told Kaiba the story of the origin of duel monsters.

"Could you please get your creepy guards from breathing down my neck?" snapped Kaiba suddenly, Ishizu sighed.

"As I was saying, the God Cards were stolen from me, and to protect them the next time I get them back I had the most elite guard in all of Egypt to protect them,"

"You mean you already lost the God Cards?!" snarled Kaiba at Ishizu, wondering how dumb a woman with acclaimed physic powers could get.

"I still have one, Obelisk the Tormentor," Ishizu smiled and brought it out, and though Kaiba wouldn't admit it, he was in awe.

"If you were to start up a tournament, your reputation would attract duelists from all over the world, it would be the largest assembly of rare cards in history -the Rare Hunters wouldn't be able to resist," said Ishizu, "You may also borrow Obelisk, though I expect it back," she handed the card over. The four Hekan's eyes widened slightly, why would she just hand over a God?

"What makes you think I'll return a card this rare?" smirked Kaiba.

"I have foreseen it," said Ishizu calmly.

"Please take a Hekan warrior with you, for their protection is invaluable," said Ishizu, gesturing to her elite guard.

"No thanks, I have my own men for that," snorted Kaiba.

"It does not bode well for anyone to underestimate the Hekans," advised Ishizu as the millionaire swaggered out.

"You three," said Ishizu, pointing to Asmodeus, Ali and Fernando, "-Follow Kaiba, protect him in secret. He is to gain the God Cards, and whoever has them is in constant danger from the Rare Hunters," the three nodded and slowly marched out of the museum leaving Harry and Ishizu alone in the empty building.

"You had a different job in mind, didn't you? Protecting the holders of Millennium Items," how could she have known? Then, Harry saw the Millennium Necklace around her neck, and remembered.

"Ah, yeah," mumbled Harry, remembering Shadi's words.

"There are two people who need protecting the most, the Pharaoh, who is within the Millennium Puzzle which is in the possession of Yugi Mutou," said Ishizu, slowly circling Harry.

"-and the one who wants the Puzzle, also is an Item holder, you must protect him too," Ishizu knew Harry was getting confused, but she still cared for her brother, so she wanted Harry to watch over him too.

"Wait, you want me to protect two item holders who are against one another?" Harry groaned, feeling a headache come on.

"Yes, and, the one who wants the puzzle is...the leader of the Rare Hunters," Ishizu bit-back a grimace at Harry's expression.

"The ones my brethren have to fight and defend against? What happens if I have to fight my own warriors?" confusion riddled in his voice.

"I trust you will make the right decision," Ishizu smiled and placed a hand on Harry's naked shoulder, and offered her last words of advice.

"When I say protect the leader of the Rare Hunters, I mean, really protect....even if that means from himself, do you understand?"

"I think so, but where will I find him if the Rare Hunters operate in shadow?" asked Harry, palms sweating as he put on a false-calm, Ishizu grinned at him and beckoned him to another museum room where a shadowed figure waited.

"This is where I come in," it was Shadi, who held his Millennium Ankh, and placed it around Harry's neck.

"This is the Millennium Ankh, it has the ability to let you see into the mind and soul," said Shadi, as Harry clenched it in awe, he stared at the two, who seemed to be in cahoots.

"This will enable you to track down other Millennium Items, just focus on the Millennium Rod, it is what the leader of Rare Hunters carries and it should lead you right to him," said Shadi, then all of a sudden he and Ishizu gave Harry odd smiles.

"Harry, do you know my last name?" asked Ishizu, eyes shining as she anticipated Harry's reaction, after endless talks with Shadi, she knew who the Hekan was. It was Harry Potter, a. k. a:

The Boy in the Mirror.

"I am Ishizu_ Ishtar,_ and my brother, leader of the Rare Hunters is_ Marik Ishtar_,"

Harry gaped, he just stood there, unable to move, blink, or even breathe.

_Could it be, it had been real, his search was not in vain?_

"I know you have been searching for him, I know you may have even doubted he was real, but he is," Ishizu placed a calming arm around the young boy, his green eyes wide with sheer shock.

"Tell me what happened, tell me why our connection broke!" Harry ached for six years wondering why, Ishizu shook her head and shrugged.

"I do not know and it is not my story to tell," said Ishizu, as the look on Harry's face died, he had forgotten to ask her about Hawkins...

"Focus on the Millennium Rod, and the Ankh will guide you, I do believe you have a promise to a certain boy," smiled Shadi, Harry's eyes widened.

"I did...didn't I?" with a grin, he grabbed the Ankh around his neck and focused on the Millennium Rod, he felt magic pouring into the Ankh held loosely in his grip. Shadow Magic poured from it's key-like tip, Harry slowly exhaled.

"Guide me to where the Rod is!"

The Ankh began to point, and Harry bid his goodbyes.

For a while, Ishizu and Shadi stood in silence, staring after the Hekan, who had hurriedly kicked open the locked door -too impatient for security to open it. Ishizu smiled, and turned to the ancient turbaned spirit.

"He traveled for six years you know," said Shadi, sadness in his hollow blue eyes at all Harry had been through.

"He used to mumble in his sleep how much he missed the boy when the connection broke,"

Ishizu tilted her head in curiosity.

"-And he traveled half-way across the world, he even learned Arabic for him, for your brother," said Shadi with a soft smile, remembering Harry as a young mortal fondly.

"That takes a lot more then friendship," stated Ishizu after mulling the information over, and Shadi simply gave her a knowing nod in response.

"I see what you're getting at, I just hope Marik hasn't sunk too deep,"

* * *

**Public Square:**

"Battle City tournament is officially on! This is going to be awesome!" yelled the over-excited Joey Wheeler.

Mai rolled her eyes but hi-fived him anyway.

"Apparently duelists from all over are coming, I already saw Weevil and Rex," stated Mai dryly, gesturing to familiar faces.

"This, is going to be so much harder then I thought," admitted Yugi, standing with Mai, Anzu, Joey, Tristan and Ryou.

"-and there are a ton of creeps after the Puzzle too, we'll be running into those guys I bet," muttered the diminutive teen.

* * *

It was dark, Harry had no idea where he was, he only knew slim amounts of Japanese, though thankfully most in Domino spoke English anyway due to the foreigner influx. Putting his veil forwards to obscure his face, he skulked the streets.

The Ankh was guiding him to a hotel, everyone he passed seemed to be dead-eyed, and wearing similar cloaks.

"Who the hell are you and what're you doing here?" barked one in English, with an almost demonic voice, approaching Harry, ready to physically attack him.

"I'm Harry Potter, a Hekan warrior," said Harry sweetly, then a sharp high-kick to the face later, the man was on the ground.

**"-and don't you forget it!**" he finished icily.

Harry walked through calmly, flicking Rare Hunters off him like annoying bugs, he let the ankh guide him through corridors and up steps endlessly until he reached a brown door. Slowly, Harry opened it, walked in, and saw nobody.

"Well well, how nice of you to join us Hekan," said a dark voice, Harry sucked in a breath and turned around, to face a man he'd been searching for, for so long.

"_Marik... is that really you?"_ awe and disbelief in Harry's voice, he'd grown so much, he was so much taller, his voice deeper, he'd become a such a handsome and powerful young man. His face had barely changed apart from obvious maturity over the years...he still...looked like...the little Marik he knew, if he looked deeply enough.

"How do you know me?" asked Marik sharply, as the Hekan slowly removed his veil and walked closer to him, wiping his kohl clean off. Marik watched in curiosity, commanding his Rare Hunters back with his Rod. Slowly, Harry slowly opened his eyes, heart pounding wildly in his ears as he took the hair-elastic from his ponytail and let his hiplength hair rest loosely.

"You mean you don't remember? It's me," Harry conjured the mirror into his hands and slid it to Marik.

"I'm the boy from the mirror,"

Odion stood beside Marik, and watched as the Millennium Rod suddenly clattered to the floor, he picked it up to keep the mindslaves enslaved as Marik stood in shock. It took a moment to remember but, Harry's face was so...familiar...

Marik watched as Harry fell to his knees before him, tears running down the boy's cheeks.

"_I'm sorry,_" he began to cry, not only from happiness but from a deep sense of failure.

"I'm so sorry that it took me six years to find you again," in a way, Harry felt like he failed his friend.

* * *

_Flashback:_

_"One day we won't have to deal with mean people," said Harry, both of them sat up by each other._

_"And we'll meet for reals!" added Harry excitedly._

_"Promise?" asked Marik quietly._

_"I Promise," grinned Harry._

_

* * *

_

"I remember you,"

"Now get up," spat Marik harshly, Harry's eyes widened, his friend sounded so...cruel, his eyes looked so empty. Harry watched Marik's knuckles shift color holding the mirror tightly.

"It's customary that people bow before me," Marik smirked and pulled Harry up by the hand.

Pause.

"You're the exception to the rule," he brought Harry so close, wrapping his arms around the Hekan so tight it hurt, but Harry returned the embrace with equal strength and buried his head into his neck, Marik felt Harry's tears slide under the golden bands around his neck. They stayed knotted in eachothers vice-grip for a while, as if to make sure the other was real.

Harry wondered if Marik cared for him the way he did for Marik.

"You don't hate me for taking so long do you? I traveled halfway across the world, I...I learned Arabic for you," Harry was ashamed to be sobbing at that moment, like a child having a meltdown, shaking in the arms of another.

His answer to whether Marik Ishtar still cared, was returned in the words the Egyptian spoke next into his ear.

_"I learned English for you,_"

* * *

** xxxEndChapterxxx**

**I'm a review whore,...review please? -hands out free icecream to reviewers-**


	9. The Damned Walk

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover, _

_Yaoi, OOC, HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!... This will be a slightly A.U form of Season 2, ...okay VERY a.u, Marik is already in Japan, and Slifer has already found it's way to Yugi's deck, and well... it progresses from this point.  
_

_I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTER xxx_

* * *

"Marik, if you're quite finished cuddling---" cut in a dark voice, making Harry turn frigid in Marik's grip who grudgingly let go. Harry turned to see where the voice came from, among dead-eyed slaves was a white haired teen, smirking at them both.

"No--!" screamed Marik when Harry immediately assumed Bakura was a threat, with a blankness in his green iris's he leaped forward with so much power the ground vibrated as his feet his the floor, body lunging forward, before the spirit of the ring could blink he found his body thrown against a wall which seemed to swallow his legs and arms to stop him from moving. Magic seemed to emanate from Harry, travel through the ground and throw the teen across the room.

Raising his arms and hands, two distant chairs rose into the air, lunging forward in an air-strike, as if telling the chairs what to do, they turned into thin blades and rushed forwards.

"Stop!" yelled Marik, the second it was uttered, Harry grunted and the blades stopped, one inches from Bakura's chest to his heart, and one mere millimetres from his flesh between Bakura's eyes.

"He's not a threat, let him down," said Marik, hiding his reaction at the sudden violent display of magic.

"Hm, if you say so," shrugged Harry, clapping his hands twice, the blades suddenly recognized gravity and fell to the floor with a metallic clatter, and the wall released Bakura who slid slowly down it to his feet.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't kill him for that," said Bakura calmly.

"Because he's mine," said Marik, before he realized what had spilled from his lips, but he didn't bother to alter his statement despite Bakura raising a brow at his choice of wording.

"I wasn't going to kill you!" reasoned Harry with a slight blush, "Just maim you a little, I mean...you have a Millennium Item, I'd fail at my assignment if I killed you,"

Marik looked at him oddly.

"Well ah, this is where it gets awkward," Harry rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"In between looking for you Marik, I was actually hired by two people to look after and protect the holders of the Millennium Items," said Harry, to which Marik slowly turned redder in anger, looking barely able to suppress a stroke.

"I'm not going to get in the way, my job is not to let anyone die to be specific, otherwise, go nuts," shrugged Harry.

"I see," muttered Marik tiredly, Bakura was quiet.

"Well this is rude, all this time you two are talking, I get no introduction," said Bakura in false-offended tone in his stereotypical sarcastic nature.

"My friend, is Harry Potter, an Egyptian Hekan warrior, and Harry this is Bakura... or rather the Spirit of the Ring," said Marik, gesturing between the two.

"Well I suppose that explains the almost-maiming," said Bakura calmly, looking mildly annoyed.

"M'Sorry," Harry almost looked like he was pouting subconsciously, as he much resembled a scolded child.

"Who hired you?" asked Bakura, though Harry really felt uneasy around such darkness, it was like being in the presence of a demon. He felt like a dead spirit, though he inhabited a body, all in all, it was a skin-crawling feeling to be that close to him.

"Can't disclose that," muttered Harry, remembering Filch's rant during his 'protocol' practice, he went on and on about customer confidentiality as if they suddenly became a private security service. Seriously, Filch would have his guts for garters.

"Right, meeting first, catch-up later," Marik felt a headache coming on.

"Find a room and make yourself at home if you want," said Marik airily, Harry however, insisted on staying for the meeting.

"Mm, expect me to be clingy as hell," said Harry dryly, standing at Marik's side beside Odion. Marik groaned internally, he was unbelievably overjoyed when he reunited with Harry, but there was no escaping his friend had grown up handsomely. Having him stand as a traditional Egyptian warrior was almost inducing a home-sickness for Egypt, and the garbs themselves were picked to fit and were revealing -just having him there was distracting.

* * *

**Later:**

Marik was surprised when the Hekan pounced on him as soon as the conference was over, awkwardly he prodded Harry.

"We need to talk,"

"No kidding!"

Harry turned serious as he clutched his friend forcefully who gave up trying to wriggle out of the warrior's grip.

"Marik you changed, what happened to you? In that meeting you were so--" Scary? Monstrous? Evil? Despicable?

"-different, before we even catch up, I want to know what happened to our connection all those years ago?" asked Harry, standing tall, though despite the newly found confidence that came with his character, it did nothing to delete the cringe-worthy sadness from his voice and eyes.

"I broke it on purpose," Marik had to say it as he backed out from Harry's hold, though he hated the look in Harry's eyes when he said it.

Harry stood there in silence and so did Marik, Harry felt something wash over him, outside of happiness was the powerful feeling of hurt and now anger. Lip shaking, Harry raised a hand to cut through the silence, and nothing but the sound of it hitting of flesh resonated and echoed.

There was a red hand print on Marik's cheek.

"You were all I had left! Everything fell apart even worse when I couldn't get through to you!"

"I changed alright! There's something...wrong with me!" yelled Marik back, slightly angry, and even angrier when Harry had struck him across the face.

Silence.

He did it to keep Harry safe.

"_You idiot_," muttered Harry "If I was there maybe I could have helped you, and it wouldn't have turned out this way. For all those six years I didn't think you'd turn out like _this_."

Marik began to walk away to his master bedroom, unable to face the disappointment in Harry.

"I'm sorry, it's my fault, I should have come sooner," murmured Harry with sad eyes as he stepped into his hotel room, he blamed himself.

* * *

**Late Night:**

The meeting made everyone sleep late, but Harry disliked sleeping -as any of the warriors who knew him could tell you. Harry, when alone, didn't feel at all as mighty as the reputation of his fighters made him out to be. There was a haunting silence as Harry stared at the lush white bed, slowly he stripped to the nude -warrior garbs were horrid for falling asleep in. Nervously, he curled up into the covers, knowing the inevitable was going to happen.

Two hours of blissful sleep, and a whole night of nightmares.

_"Hello again,"_ hissed the serpentine voice of his dreams, the same one that had been plaguing him since his eleventh birthday.

Harry couldn't reply, he knew it would do no good, the voice seemed always know what he was thinking.

_"Tommy-boy! Good to see you,"_ returned Harry in weak sarcasm, only to feel a tight pain in his skull in response.

A horrifyingly cold icy finger traced over his nude chest over his heart, he wanted to scream but he couldn't, warriors weren't supposed to show pain, it was disgustingly weak. But Marik had seen him in pain before, and this felt far to similar to what happened so many years ago. '_it'll hurt more to hold it in_' so he choked over the laughter and screamed. The dark blood leaked from the lightning bolt scar under his black bangs. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, the heavy breathing disappeared and the laughter faded to a mere haunting echo. His heart froze as a heavy weight appeared under the covers.

He could feel it holding him down, then, the weight from his chest lifted as he awoke from his nightmare.

* * *

**Day, Hotel Lounge:**

Marik knew Harry didn't approve of his lifestyle, but his friend had to come to terms with who he was. That morning, Harry seemed a lot more relaxed, the first thing he did was smile for Marik, then silently stand by his side as a protector should.

"I'd prefer it if you were my friend, not my guard," he muttered bitterly under his breath, missing the look Harry gave him, not knowing that secretly Harry counted every step that he took -feeling a little emptier the further he walked off.

Evidently, the older, colder Ishtar didn't realize just how much his friend had concentrated on wanting -finding him, all those years.

"I'm both," said Harry coolly, trailing behind the Egyptian, tugging his cloak to spin Marik on his feet toward him again. The older teen felt the crushing grip of the Hekan, in a tight morning hug.

"Ne?" Marik grunted in confusion, finding himself forcefully nestled in Harry's arms so tight -and was taken by surprise unable to return the affection.

"Expect a lot of this Marik, I have six years without you to make up for,"

Pause.

"I suppose it could be worse," said Marik wryly as Harry grudgingly released him.

Then, for a nanosecond, Marik Ishtar smiled -as in, _really_ smiled. Just for him.

He still had a touch of his childhood-self within him, he was still the Little Marik that Harry knew, but only if he looked deep enough past the bastard of a man his friend had become.

"Put a cloak on, it's cold," said Marik eventually, as he waited by the exit for Harry who put on a spare Rare-Hunter robe.

Yami Malik grinned internally as he looked at the deadly Hekan in his gang's brand of robe.

* * *

** Elsewhere:**

Yugi frowned, it felt something was following him for a while now, but paid no mind to it.

The duellists all felt unease knowing Rare Hunters skulked the streets.

"Card games, card games, card games," muttered Fernando, sat on a rooftop looking bored.

"Muggles are boring at times," shrugged Ali, sat next to him as they stared down at the flurry of duellers, watching the famous Seto Kaiba comb the shadows to test out Obelisk on some poor schmuck.

"Do I hear Kaiba's finally moved from his office?" came a sarcastic quip "Thanks for telling me! 'Cause it's not like I was hired too or anything!" said Asmodeus Filch sarcastically, appearing seemingly from nowhere.

"Glad you could make it!" grinned Ali sheepishly. They all had taken to speaking English, the only other language they knew, the second language of Japan.

"You guys are...as they say 'assholes'," said Filch dryly, sitting next to them on the roof, smirking as everyone shivered in the traditional wear that he demanded they wore at all times.

"Says the guy forcing us to w-wear garbs designed for Egypt in cold-freaking-Japan!" snarked back Fernando with an eyeroll.

Pause.

"You geniuses didn't think of just channelling some warmth-magic?"

* * *

Harry didn't know why, but he couldn't stop staring at the Egyptian seated confidently on the motorcycle. Something childish in him screamed, "Motorcycles are so badass!" so seeing Marik on one made him stop in his tracks. Even with the helmet on, locks of sandy-blond hair streamed through near his lavender eyes, Harry swallowed and squashed away the urge to blush, he didn't know why he wanted to in the first place but...

"Come on," said Marik, resisting the urge to smirk at his friend.

Nervously, Harry let his hair loose and sat behind Marik on the motorcycle, gripping his shoulders for support.

"You might want to hold on tighter," advised Marik with a confident almost humorous tone.

The moment the motorcycle set off in high-speed, Harry knew why he was warned, and could be heard cursing loudly by pedestrians.

"HOLY SH--!" Letting go to suddenly grip him around the stomach tightly, ignoring the Ishtar chuckle deeply at his reaction.

"I did warn you,"

* * *

**Domino Central:**

"Where are we going?" asked Harry curiously.

"To catch up, unless you don't like Starbucks," said Marik in a surprisingly casual manner as they approached the expensive coffee shop.

"I'm sorry," said Harry suddenly as they entered, confused, Marik raised a brow.

"For what?"

"Hitting you yesterday," muttered Harry sheepishly, redness on his cheeks, Marik smirked back at him though. In one suave movement, he had Harry's chin held up by his fingers, smoothly he muttered into his ear.

"_J__ust don't let it happen again_,"

Harry flushed, he didn't like his friend speaking in such a low dangerous tone nor did he take comfort in Marik being so publicly personal.

Over brownies and hot chocolate, the two sat in comfortable silence, ignoring the other customers. The atmosphere was cozy, the area was warm and they sat at the tables at the far back.

Awkwardly, Harry tried to hit off the conversation using his bare-minimal social skills, his finger running nervously over the rim of the hot chocolate cup. His eyes looking down into the warm liquid, his heart was pounding so loud he wouldn't be surprised if Marik could hear it.

"Do you remember the time we spent when we were kids?"

"Yes," short. Sweet. Harsh.

Sucking in a breath, Harry trudged through the conversation.

"The last time we met," frowned Harry "-was the night after Vernon's friends lost it," he couldn't think of a way to put it elegantly. Marik's expression shifted somewhat as he remembered vaguely, a bloodied young Harry crawling on all fours half-dead with blood all over his trousers.

Marik nodded, jaw clenched at the memory, but he tried not to show it.

"The next day I was kicked to the streets...." his story, was not a nice one.

* * *

**Later:**

"Harry?," prodded Marik, as the boy turned silent and pale at the coffee shop table. His eyes straying to a seemingly empty spot, a spirit had abandoned it's vessel and stalked across the shop as though it was human. Couldn't nobody else see him? He looked so out of place, the waiter's garb it 'wore' stained with a red body fluid that Harry hoped wasn't what he thought it was. It felt like a bad horror movie as his heart pounded from the reality of the situation. The hand holding the cup of hot-chocolate began to shake erratically sending droplets of searing hot liquid onto his own fingers but he didn't snap out of it.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," said a voice in Harry's skull, mockingly.

Sensing Harry was about to drop his mug, Marik quickly reached out and intertwined his fingers with Harry's to hold the cup up straight.

Slowly, Harry brought his green eyes to Marik who was looking at him weirdly.

"Harry, what's going on?" asked the Egyptian slowly, unamused.

"I thought I saw...something...it doesn't matter," lied Harry, swallowing the heavy lump in his throat as the entity slowly approached him, nobody else could see it.

"Let's leave," croaked out Harry suddenly, downing his hot chocolate and ignored the pain of the piping liquid scalding his gullet.

When they left, Marik turned to him and said, all to casually.

"Your forehead is bleeding," as a liquid dripped from a scar beneath black bangs, it slowly dripped into vision as droplets slid under the hair and down his face.

"Something's going on," said Marik, his tone of voice, demanding answers. Harry dragged the stubborn Egyptian to his motorcycle and hopped on behind him.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, now lets go! _Please_!"

The Ishtar spared him for a moment, and decided to speed off down the road away from Starbucks, feeling Harry's heart pound in fear when pressed up behind him made Marik feel the slightest bit worried. Hekan's weren't supposed to be scared, but Harry had quite a few questions to answer, though for now, they were off to find Yugi Mutou.

To steal the puzzle themselves...

* * *

**Shadow Realm:**

The dark mark stung on Quirinus Quirrell's arm, his body nearly left for dead in the shadows like a puppeteer's prop as Voldemort left to pinpoint, persue and break the Boy Who Lived mentally, then physically...the boy would be as good as dead and Quirrell's body would be the vessel that Voldemort would walk in.

Quirrell's hand would kill the last hope alive.

In the back of his mind, the pathetic Death Eater began to cry, in a realm that was slowly numbing him until his master repossessed his body.

"W-w-Why didn't I l-l-let Dumbledore k-k-kill me?" he wondered, as pain numbed his lips, and his body splayed out limply like a frozen doll.

Waiting.


	10. False Smiles

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover, _

_Yaoi, OOC, HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!... This will be a slightly A.U form of Season 2, ...okay VERY a.u, Marik is already in Japan, and Slifer has already found it's way to Yugi's deck. This chapter: Yami Malik addresses Harry, feelings unfold._

_If you like the duels that much, I take them directly from the anime (or parts), Joey's is from S2 "Playing with a Parasite" -watch it if you want the full whole duel -waaay to lazy to write it all here tbh._

_I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTER xxx_

_

* * *

_

Even though he'd found Marik, Harry still missed him. He didn't understand that until they'd pulled up beside a warehouse, his friend had changed into something else. Something he could barely equate with the boy he used to know. After Marik's first trip to the surface, he remembered the sudden obsession with motorcycles, the wonderment at television, and things Harry himself had been deprived of despite being exposed to them on a daily basis. Remnants of his friend sort of showed, but the longer Harry spent with Marik the more minuscule those signs became.

"Mutou's in there, dueling Bandit Keith for his Millennium Item back," said Marik darkly.

"As long as you don't kill him," muttered Harry remembering his duty, to which the Ishtar laughed cruelly.

"I have something worse in mind," he replied.

Harry died a little inside at that, the Ishtar had changed so much he bore slim resemblance to the one he remembered -how could somebody change so horribly?

Yami Malik wasn't sure whether he should kill Harry, like Odion, he was a possible hindrance to his existence on the outside, as he brought out the good in him pining to come out and take over permanently which would make him obsolete in time.

Silently he pulled the cloak hood over to mask Harry's features and did the same with his own cloak.

"Don't say a word, we're here to get the puzzle," said Yami Malik, they went inside, and saw fire spreading within the duelling stadium set up. Keith was having a fit, writhing on the floor, screaming insanely for Marik to get out of his mind. Fire was spreading everywhere and smoke was starting to weigh down the air. Through the flames, they could faintly make out Yugi trying to put together a shattered Millennium Puzzle.

"You came a little late," grated a dark voice over the sound of spitting fire.

It was the Spirit of the Ring.

"Get out, now, retrieve the puzzle when it's put back together," he said.

Quickly the three made their way out discreetly, as the fire brigade showed up shortly after Yugi was dragged out of the burning warehouse by Joey and Tristan.

Bakura, Marik and Harry stood in the shadows beside the parked up motorcycle, eyes on the puzzle.

"Wait, this is Yugi Mutou? The Pharaoh's host or whatever?" asked Harry staring at the short boy in the distance. Bakura grunted affirmatively to which Harry laughed. Hard.

"He's so short! Shouldn't it be like taking candy from a baby? -Not that I condone this," added the Potter, Marik rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you....ya'know...just...take it?"

"Tried that," said Marik deadpan.

"No I mean, take it, and keep it, don't make him duel for it...just...keep the damn thing?" he raised a brow at the Russia-sized hole in the logic of Marik getting Keith the steal the puzzle -only to give Yugi a chance and duel for it.

Before the two villains could respond, Harry brushed a strand of hair back and added.

"I see your need for pointless eccentricey hasn't changed a bit Marik," said Harry wryly.

Bakura suddenly laughed -the type of laugh that set maggots dancing in your flesh layers.

"Your little boyfriend isn't as bad as I thought,"

Silence.

Marik finally snapped back

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"Keep telling yourself that," muttered the Spirit of the Ring, with a sadistic smirk at Marik's suppressed annoyance.

"The item needs to be won in a Shadow Game or it's power can't be unleashed fully," elaborated Marik, to which Harry tilted his head curiously, but didn't make comment on.

* * *

/Are you going to kill him?/ asked Bakura to Yami Malik through the mental link established with connected Millennium Items, sadly Harry had not mastered the Millennium Ankh as of yet, and thus remained unable to hear their mental chatter.

/Why do you ask?/ replied Yami Malik smoothly.

/Isn't he a threat to your existence on the outside, like Odion?/

Bakura was met with dead silence.

/Perhaps/

/Going soft are we?/ prodded Bakura.

/He's useful!/ said Yami Malik, attempting to justify it.

/As for his fate, I'll decide that after... I get some answers/ added Yami Malik.

/Answers?/ replied Bakura curiously.

/He's got more mystery hanging around him then the Pharaoh/

/I see/

* * *

The three walked through the alley clearing away from the warehouse, Marik dragging his motorcycle behind him. The sound of sirens blaring from the fire brigade slowly faded as they walked away discreetly.

"Get into the finals as planned and I'll meet you there," with that, Bakura left the two in the alley, slowly Marik mounted the motorcycle and Harry joined him.

"How're you going to pull that off?" asked Harry as they sped out into the streets and he clutched the insane Rod-wielding teen around the stomach for dear life. Wind whipping down their hoods as they rode away.

"Are you implying I couldn't get into the finals?" returned Marik coolly, hands on the handles gripping tightly as they swerved left down the road.

"N--no! I--" stammered out Harry as his stomach twisted, Marik could feel Harry's heart beating erratically, partially in fear of his driving skills and the other at what he'd said.

"I was teasing," smirked Marik, realizing he'd forgotten to put his helmet on, he tossed it to Harry, who could do better with the security of wearing it. A strong waft of peach tickled Harry's sense of smell, coming from the perfectly perfect blond hair flowing past Harry's cheeks in the fast wind. Hesitantly and slowly, Harry tilted his head into the side of Marik's neck, making the Ishtar's stomach clench uncomfortably. He was able to handle the random bouts of affection, the tight coil of Harry's arms around his lower stomach but he could feel Harry's breath upon him as he drove and it was making the back of his neck heat up as he faught off turning red. -He just didn't blush. Ever.

"We're we going?" asked the Hekan innocently, with his eyes shut as the wind and hair caressed his face.

"Somewhere were nobody will hear a scream," suddenly, Marik sounded scary. They pulled up beside an abandoned farm in a more "country" part of Domino -the outskirts, and all of a sudden, Harry felt something change in the Ishtar as they dismounted.

* * *

Harry brushed his cloak down, and when he glanced back up expecting to see Marik beside him, he'd gone.

"Marik, this isn't funny," his voice was meeker, as he walked around a semi-collapsing barn. Hay scratched his legs uncomfortably and the smell of animals past their prime still lingered, though to Harry's shock an entire wall of the barn had gone down.

"M--Marik?," he was ashamed to admit he was scared now as the sound of high powered electricals rang in his ears, then, it became louder as if coming nearer.

Then, through the giant open wall, a huge tractor-esque machine approached slowly, headlights blinding him as they shone down upon him in the dark barn. It was an old piece of farm machinery, so loud it vibrated through his ears, and was quickly pushing it's way to Harry in the barn who was backed into the corner. He didn't feel like a brave Hekan warrior anymore, he was up against a machine, not a human, and thus felt defeat. Not knowing what to do.

"Marik!" he was screaming at the top of his lungs, filled with so much fear he couldn't use magic properly, he just stood in awe and terror at the sheer size of the machine.

Tears ran down his cheeks, he blamed a bad childhood on that, when met with a situation he couldn't handle, salty tears would run down his face that he was ashamed to admit he couldn't control. His long slender legs shook in his place, cloak billowing out as he screamed over the sound of the large farm machinery tore over his screaming The tractor at the front was fitted with a huge wheel-like metallic plougher which ripped into the ground sending bits of hay everywhere. It was as big as an Egyptian God, so huge, it send Harry into an unmovable shock as he screamed for Marik so loud his throat hurt.

Finally he noticed the man behind the wheel, it was Marik, but his hair was flared and spiked out, veins prominent as he laughed maniacally.

"Marik! Please, stop! What're you doing?! You're going to kill me---" his screams sounded like that, each more desperate then the last as the headlight shone down upon him.

* * *

The good inside of Marik snarled at Yami Malik in anger.

_"Don't hurt him! Don't you dare!"_ but Yami Malik ignored the cries inside.

"Marik! Whatever's going on we can sort it out! Please! Just stop..."

Harry's back pushed against the wall and he slumped to the floor and curled up in the corner, he didn't know what to do, he was scared, confused, and certain he was going to die. He was a shaking mess, but suddenly, the deafening roar of machinery stopped, the headlights turned off, and the tractor-like machine stopped. Slowly, Harry opened his tear-filled bloodshot eyes as he heard Marik jump down and approach him, a sharp tip of the Millennium Rod unsheathed.

"I've been contemplating killing you for a while," smirked Yami Malik, swaggering over with a dark look in his eye. He knelt on one knee before Harry, and grabbed the Hekan up, pushing him to the wall with one hand, holding the sharp point of the Rod in the other to him.

"Marik--" stammered Harry, slowly looking him the eye and sniffling back snot from bawling for his life.

"What's g--going on?"

Then, something flashed in his mind.

* * *

_Flashback:_

_"I changed alright! There's something...wrong with me!" yelled Marik back, slightly angry, and even angrier when Harry had struck him across the face._

_End Flashback._

_

* * *

_

"You, are a possible hindrance to my existence," snarled Yami Malik, eyes aflame.

"With you here bringing out my weaker self, I would have slowly been made obsolete!" screeched the demented side of Marik.

Harry looked scared and confused.

"For years I existed inside of the Marik you knew, and with this body, I would rule all! Then, Odion came along, then..._you_" he spat.

Slowly, shaking candy lips formed a scratchy barely-audible sentence.

"I would never hurt any side of Marik because he means so much to me," admitted Harry, body quivering in fear.

"You're still apart of him," swallowed Harry, hoping to convince Yami Malik of his sincerity, that he wouldn't dare try to destroy or betray him.

"Are you shaking with fear or revulsion?" cackled Yami Malik, face millimetres from the other.

"N--N--"

Yami Malik rolled his eyes and backed away, allowing Harry out the corner.

"**You're pathetic**,"

"You're still a part of Marik, and I like every part of my friend," said Harry meekly, cheeks red as he wiped his face of tear-tracks, saying anything to please the 'nice' psychopath.

Yami Malik himself meant something to him, and that perplexed the psychopath.

"You're still naive as I remember," smirked Yami Malik, sheathing the Rod back eventually.

Harry blinked then blushed, knowing exactly what memory the raving nutter was referring to.

* * *

_Flashback: _

_Young Harry dragged himself behind Marik, who stiffened, and let out a soft noise of surprise as his cheeks reddened. A pair of moist pink lips pressed to his back, sending a flurry of butterflies in his stomach, Harry had kissed...his back?_

_"Why..?" he whispered confused as his naive friend crawled infront of him with a confused smile of his own._

_"Isn't that what I am supposed to do?" he tilted his head, innocent green eyes emphasized more behind bottle-glasses._

_"I mean, if something hurts, kiss it better... right?" that's what he'd seen Petunia do with Dudley, and mothers with their children. Slowly, the blushing Ishtar began to laugh, wrapping his arms around his silly friend._

_"You're really naive you know that?"_

_End Flashback:_

_

* * *

_

Pathetic mortal. No wonder his weak-side loved him so.

"Apologies for the test of faith, but I had to make sure you wouldn't get in my way," said Yami Malik after a moment of thought. The apology, of course, insincere.

"T--test of faith? The machine..." Harry rambled out in angry shock, the Ishtar truly was insane, still his friend, but insane none-the-less.

"But it seems even_ I _mean something to you," drawled the psychopath strolling to Harry and placing hands on his shoulder blades with an 'I-Own-You' smirk. A silence fell as Yami Malik looked down upon Harry with a positively devilish expression.

"Oh Naive-One," he continued, veins relaxing though still in his dark-state.

He knew they both remembered_ that _memory. One of kissing bruises, as if it solved everything.

Harry's legs stopped quivering in fear, as muscled arms wrapped securely around him. It felt_ right. _It took more then friendship to persevere as Harry did for six years. The feeling when counting every step Marik took whenever he walked out of a room was a lot stronger then anything he'd felt before.

He was terrified of Marik changing back into...Yami Malik and was even more terrified of dare letting him go.

"Don't hate me," Marik managed. How could somebody turn your world upside down so much? Somehow, Harry managed it.

"I'm a little mad and a little terrified but I don't think I could ever hate you -you_ nutter_, remember that," Harry knew very well which side of Marik he'd shown affection to, and he still loved him regardless, and for that, Marik felt...happy. Unbelievably so.

* * *

_Flashback_

_"Give me one reason I shouldn't kill him for that," said Bakura calmly._

_"Because he's mine," said Marik, before he realized what had spilled from his lips._

_End Flashback._

* * *

"Mine_,_" he mumbled, as the arms tightened around the Hekan. Harry Potter was his friend, and now, so much more deep down.

Possessiveness increased tenfold.

He never wanted to see Harry like that again, he never wanted to see him leave again, and he never ever wanted to be the one his friend feared -a part of him would always hate Yami Malik for that.

* * *

They mounted the motorcycle and sped out the barn with naught but a peaceful silence between them as Harry's clinging became gentler. Horrors of the machine put behind them as they road back into Domino's city.

* * *

**Wizarding World: Azkaban Prison: Death Row.**

A black haired man, with hollowed cheeks and tired eyes held a newspaper between his fingers. Minister Fudge had been doing some sort of PR stunt to flaunt Azkaban's security after the conviction of the Halfblood Murderer, and very weakly, the man in his cell -Sirius Black, asked for his newspaper.

Out of pity or passing bordem having been done with the paper, it had found it's way through the bars of the prison into the hands of Sirius Black.

**"Missing Hero Potter: Presumed Dead"**

His head hit the back of the cell wall as he leaned back, waiting for dementers to leave for the lower blocks so he could easily string up more coherent thoughts.

_What happened to Harry Potter? Petal, Penalia..Petunia! Lily's...sister was it? Only one family left..alive...has...Harry....not sent...Hogwarts? Hated magic...hated Lily...Lily's son...has magic._

_Dear MERLIN! He can't be dead! No, no..no...NO!_

The prisoner gave a sickening lurch as his fogged up thoughts reached a conclusion, wherever Harry was he couldn't possibly be happy or even safe for that matter! He couldn't wait anymore, he had to find and protect _his_ Harry, as a godfather, he had obligation to. Plus...he missed his Little Prongs, who he hadn't seen since they changed secret keepers.

Evidently Dumbledore had failed to keep Harry safe or he'd be at Hogwarts!

With one plan he'd been planning for years up his sleeve, he thought of his animagus form, and slowly his bones began to shift...

* * *

He shouldn't have scared Harry with the machine, for a moment, Harry saw his life flash before his eyes. They drove on, Harry tried forgetting about the machine, and Marik tried to think of a way to make it up to him -a hug hardly resolved a murder attempt. Buy flowers? No. Present? Like what?

He decided he was no good at being nice.

"I need you to go along with something," smiled Marik suddenly, knowing how to make it up to Harry. He knew deep down that Harry was disappointed at what he'd become, and whilst working to get the puzzle, he found a way to make Harry happy.

He'd act the way he used to, when the time came to change persona's for his plan.

"Oh?" Harry agreed, but was curious nonetheless when they stopped off to fetch a duel disk system, and went to find duellists.

"I need four locator cards first though," smirked Marik as they pulled up near a crowd, around two duellists duelling.

"Hey, isn't that the Millennium Puzzle? It's on the shorty cheering the blond guy on," pointed Harry at the respective people in the duellist crowd.

It was Joey Wheeler verses Weevil Underwood.

Joey seemed to be getting into mess after mess, and was dealing with Weevil's horrid parasite. Most of Joey's monsters were affected by Weevil's parasite-infection card. Weevil also seemed to be drooling over his own Great Moth card.

"Great Moth! Destroy Wheeler's Alligator Swordsman!" cackled Weevil as the monster dived for Joey's.

Joey groaned.

He seemed to be losing. Hard.

Harry scowled.

"That kid's hair gets on my nerves, bowl-cuts annoy me," muttered Harry to himself as he stared at Weevil, Marik heard and bit-back a laugh at the random statement. The two stood side by side in the crowd watching the duel.

"So long as your cards are infected by my parasite, your monsters are all insects! With my insect-barrier, I can block all your attacks!" gloated Weevil.

Joey smirked.

"I place one card face down and switch all my monsters in attack mode!" said Joey, everyone was sure he'd gone nuts.

"I place one card in defense mode, and I'm sure you remember my darling Leghul! Now, Leghul, bypass his monsters and attack his lifepoints directly!" yelled Weevil dramatically.

**Joey's Lifepoints Dropped: 2800.**

"Now, to attack your weakest monster Wheeler!" laughed Weevil "-and knock your lifepoints down to zero!"

"Great Moth, attack Joey's parasite card!"

"Nice try, reveal Skull Dice!" said Joey quickly, unveiling his facedown.

Skull Dice knocked Great Moth's attack strength in half.

"I play my other face down card, Graceful Dice!" this would make his monster stronger, and ended up having his monster's attack points get multiplied by four, and attacked Great Moth.

Weevil screamed. Great Moth was sent to the Graveyard.

"I play Insect Soldiers of the Sky! In Attack mode, and now my spellcard, Eradicating Aerosol! Since my parasite-infecter I snuck into your deck made all your monsters into insects, my Aerosol can destroy any one of them! But I have bigger plans, I play Pinch Hopper and destroy my own monster -Destroy Pinch Hopper, Eradicating Aerosol. When sent the the graveyard this activates Pinch Hopper's effect allowing me to draw any card from my deck and I chose Insect Queen!" smirked Weevil.

"He's done for," muttered Harry.

Joey's eyes bugged (no pun intended).

"Say goodbye to Battle City!" cackled Weevil.

* * *

"She can absorb the attack of every insect on the field," and all bugs including Joey's insect-infected monsters raised the monster to an unbelievably powerful level.

"I sacrifice Leghul to make Insect Queen more powerful, now Insect Queen, attack his Tiny Guardian!"

**Joey's LP: 1000**

"It gets better, with every destroyed monster Insect Queen lays an egg, allowing her to keep let her keep the extra attack points even when the monster's destroyed. When they're hatched I'll also have an insect army!"

It didn't help that Weevil had "Insect Barrier" protecting him from Joey's infected-monsters.

"I play one card face down and my panther and end my turn," sighed Joey sadly seeing slim hope.

"I summon Cockroach Knight to feed my Queen, and it's effect allows me to keep this card in my hand and resummon it. Now my strengthened Queen, attack his panther to knock him out the tournament for good!"

"I unveil my trapcard Magic Arm Shield! I can defend myself using your own monsters with this!"

Weevil's Lifepoints dropped.

"My Queen will forever get stronger! "

"I put both my monsters in defense mode," said Joey.

Weevil resummoned Cockroach Knight to feed his Queen again.

"I draw one card facedown and summon Gearfreed the Iron Knight who's armour makes him immune to being parasite-infected,"

"Iron Knight, attack the Queen's eggs to lower her attack power!" commanded Joey.

Weevil repowered his Queen with two surprise cards and it truly looked like the end for Joey.

"Destroy his Knight and lifepoint remenants!"

"Ha. I activate my trapcard Graverobber, letting me grab a card from your graveyard and I chose Eradicating Aerosol!" with that, Joey wiped out the Queen.

"Destroy his last egg and remaining points!"

**Weevil's LP: 0**

**

* * *

**

**Later:**

"Oh yeah! Who-da man? I'm da man! Uh huh!" gloated Joey, winning Weevil's rarest card and two locator cards.

"Well done Joey," smiled Yugi, though he, Anzu, Duke, Tristan and Joey turned around at the sound of two people approaching. A boy who'd waved them down and was arm-linked with a bored looking cloaked black-haired teen.

"You were amazing!" it was Marik, who was acting oddly, almost fanboyish.

Harry felt a needle of jealousy.

He didn't understand what Marik was playing at, until he remembered...

* * *

_Flashback:_

_"I need you to go along with something," smiled Marik suddenly, knowing how to make it up to Harry. He knew deep down that Harry was disappointed at what he'd become, and whilst working to get the puzzle, he found a way to make Harry happy._

_Flashback End._

* * *

"Thanks," grinned Joey smugly.

"I see you're a duellist too," pointing to Marik's duel disk.

Harry glared at Joey.

"Yeah but not nearly as good as you are!" Marik's smile was wide and gorgeous -though false, his eyes were alight with faked admiration.

"Aw shucks. You're sweet, what's your name dude?" asked Joey, while the others fell silent.

"Namu, and this is my best ever friend, Harry," Marik promptly crushed Harry to his side in a side-hug and then resumed arm-link.

Anzu bit the inside of her cheeks to stop from smiling at the two, girls had a sixth sense about stuff like relationships and a heavy affectionate air hung about the two. It was cute -she had to admit, it also seemed Duke spotted this as did Tristan.

The two seemed a bit...too close.

Why was Marik, or rather, "Namu" acting all weird and overly childish? Then, Harry realized.

This was Marik's way of trying to make Harry happy -by acting the way he used to while also carrying out his masterplan -which involved them gaining Yugi's trust.

_Even though Marik's just pretending to be normal, I can enjoy 'Namu' for just a little while,_ thought Harry with a sad little smile.

* * *

**England:**

A near-skeletal thin man in torn prison garb knocked on the door of Privet Drive.

"**Where. Is. My. Godson?**" hissed the convict, black eyes aflame...

* * *

xxEndxx


	11. Sirius Business

**Acta Non Verba,  
**

_A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover, _

_Yaoi [future lemon], boyxboy lpve, hit the back button if it isn't your thing. Whhheeew it's been a while hasn't it folks? I admit certain scenes had me stressing, rewriting and occasionally editing in-and-out repeatedly until I settled on this version [the struggle had me also trying to put this off] but here it is! Finally! Read, review, favorite, stalk to your hearts content folks x_

_, OOC, HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!... __I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTER xxx_

_

* * *

_

When they eventually parted from Yugi's gang, Harry set to wondering.

Perhaps, Marik had become a poison to him, corrupting him to go along with his schemes. Or maybe he couldn't bring himself to love his friend for who he'd become, did that make Harry a bad person?

No, he still cared for Marik the same way he had for years except now he was filled with concern and self doubt after seeing what he'd grown into. A murderer. A manipulator.

Clutching the Millennium Ankh around him he shot a sidelong look at Marik who was scanning the area for 'quick' duelists, easy inexperienced new players whom he could quickly defeat to win locator cards faster.

"Marik,"

"Mhm?"

"Are you happy with the way things have turned out?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" shot back Marik curiously.

"You know what I mean," Harry looked to the ground, only to jerk up in surprise when he felt Marik link arms with him again, tightly.

"I promise you this, when the Pharaoh is destroyed, the world is our oyster, and it'll all be worth it," promised Marik, darkness in his eyes. Harry clutched the Ankh tighter, knuckles shifting colour. Marik was lost inside, and if Harry could only have seen into his psyche, he would have seen the innocent side of Marik pounding in the confinement of a glass pyramid tightly in his soul-room. His own darkness would become him, eclipse him, eventually. They'll come a time where Marik's good-side is locked within that confinement forever...and darkness...will rule...

The Ankh told him that Marik was lost inside, in what way? Harry wasn't sure.

"Ugh I have a better idea instead of looking for duelists for locator cards, lets do something else for now," said Marik eventually.

"Like?"

"Spend the day together,"

"I've waited so long, and now we're together again, it's funny because I don't know where to start even though I spent six years thinking," said Harry bemusedly.

They walked, they went down Domino's mainstream pass them, all of them talking about the tournament, and a lot of them armed with duel disks. True, neither of them knew where to begin. They walked side by side until Harry found a more secluded road to talk.

"I wanted to ask you something," began Marik, Harry pressed him to go on, wondering what.

"About what happened in the coffee shop?," Harry grimaced, oh...that. He wondered if he should be straight with Marik and tell him what had happened but at the same time he didn't want Marik to think he was nuts. He needed a delicate way of phrasing what was going on and at times like this he wished he was more eloquent. There was also no getting around the fact that Marik was flat out dark, and another side of him that was just plain evil. Harry's neck burned with embarrassment as he struggled over how to phrase what had been going on with him for so many years, he didn't even tell his fellow fighters who had occasionally gotten curious about his nightmares and what he went through.

"I wasn't asking for an answer Harry, I'm demanding one," said Marik icily, there was no excuse for bizarre Harry had acted and if it was enough to freak out a Hekan warrior then he had to know what it was.

Harry almost froze up at his friend's tone, but quickly styled it off.

"I don't think you'd believe it if I told you," said Harry meekly, hoping Marik would accept that answer but unfortunately for him the Egyptian pressed it.

"Try me,"

* * *

The Ishtar hadn't quite expected to hear what Harry's explanation was, it was certainly a strange one. It made him aware of a side to the Hekan he had no idea existed and whilst it wasn't something along the lines of an evil alter-ego that shared his body it did fall pretty close. He had no idea how Harry had suffered or even that he was suffering at all, he thought all that had ended for his friend when he left his relatives and all that had struck him over time was the struggles of travelling and searching. A small feeling of sadness for him bubbled in the pit of Marik's stomach, accompanied with a few others that he wasn't sure he should let surface or not.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I swear that it's like I'm in somebody else's head whenever I sleep. It's been this way for years now, and it's sort of haunted me for a long time," said Harry softly.

"Elaborate on 'haunted'," replied Marik smoothly, not showing any reaction thus far.

"You know better then anyone what it's like to possess someone else...to reach inside someone and control them from the mind. I bet if you really wanted to, you could even warp their perception of reality and see things that aren't there," said Harry.

"-and that's what he does? He does that to you?" Marik didn't seem to doubt Harry's story for a second, and seemed somewhat angered by the idea of anyone messing with Harry's mind like that, in his head, the only people justifiably doing that was himself.

"I could have sworn that I saw him serving in the coffee shop, smiling at me and it wigged me out," admitted Harry.

"Understandably, so...who is this character that seems to enjoy fiddling with your head?" asked Marik.

"His name is Tom Riddle," said Harry quietly giving Marik a very serious and solemn look "-and he's been hunting me for as long as I've been searching for you, except I don't know why,"

"Sometimes I see a memory in his head, he's killed Marik. I don't know how he managed it but with some obscure magic he's killed hundreds, probably thousands and now he wants to kill me, and I don't know why. I don't know how it is that we have a mental connection, but he has an idea of where I am," said Harry, until Marik turned rather dark and somewhat unsettling.

"I wouldn't worry about that," he said in such a way that it almost drove Harry into shivers "-because I can assure you, I am much, MUCH worse,"

"I don't plan on letting this Riddle person get that close to you again, you say this happens when you sleep? I can see this far transcends 'nightmares', so perhaps we should switch your sleeping arrangements," smirked Marik with a glint in his eye that Harry couldn't quite figure out.

* * *

When Marik Ishtar had suggested changing sleeping arrangements, Harry had no idea the devious Egyptian was planning this. Within the hotel, Harry found his trunk moved into Marik's master bedroom, and upon the massive curtained king-sized bed were silken covers, room for two.

"I'll get one of the mind slaves to bring in a single when I can, but for now this will have to do," Marik smirked at the half mortified, half pleased young Hekan who was reduced to spluttering in an uncommonly undignified manner for a warrior of his caliber.

"If you're sleeping with, pardon, I mean beside me then I can assure you that whatever happens to attack you in your sleep will be swiftly dealt with," said Marik, slowly peeling out of the long purple robe that belonged to his gang, letting it slide loosely all the way down his bare back to the floor. The whole time he hadn't had a shirt on beneath his robe and had left Harry's cheeks burning with embarrassment, to cover this up, Harry turned around and quickly began undressing into Marik's extra pajamas and distanced himself far away to the right of the bed.

Marik continued smirking and lay down on the far left to create a comfortable space between the two to ease Harry's nerves. He wasn't even facing Marik on the bed but he could tell from the bright red flesh of Harry's neck that he was probably blushing from head to toe.

He didn't realize it was this easy to get Harry into his bed.

"No offense or anything, but what can you do if Tom Riddle decides to attack my mind? He doesn't always project," said Harry quietly, muttering into the pillow.

"Like I said, I'm much, much worse and he isn't the only one with access to minds," that briefly alluded to the fact that Marik had no qualms about entering inside of Harry's to defend him from this Tom Riddle fellow -if he even existed.

Harry heard Marik drop the Millennium Rod on top of the small drawer beside the bed with a soft metallic clink and then he pulled the covers over the both of them, and Harry attempted to sleep despite the funny knots in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

It happened as surely as it did every other night, and Voldemort had not been expecting new company. Harry's arms and leg movement had been paralyzed by fear, and he felt a ghostly hand with some amount of power start to curl itself around his neck and begin choking him. The choking and hacking noises Harry made alerted Marik who darted up in the bed, being a light sleeper and turned his head to see Harry struggling to breath and slowly turning another hue while something rather ghostly was floating just above. It looked like it was there in some way, but not really, almost astral -something told Marik that he shouldn't have been able to see it anyway.

Grabbing the Millennium Rod, he aimed it at Harry and stood between the mental link, dark magic like none other oozing from the rod.

* * *

Voldemort was so sure he was breaking Harry apart mentally just as planned, until he saw a shadowed figure step right in the middle of the mind link with a weapon-wand like he'd never seen before. It had a darkness about it that he never ever felt before and Voldemort met a rather swift attack.

"Stay out of his mind Tom, the only other person he belongs to is me, and nobody else," growled the figure. Voldemort let out a maniacal laugh as dark magic hit him so powerfully it was slowly pushing him out of Harry's mind.

"How cute, Potter has a little protector," cooed Voldemort mockingly, eyes wild as he began to slowly disintegrate out of Harry's mind.

"I suppose your mental defeat is stalled for another day, but you're merely on borrowed time Potter! _**Borrowed time****!**_" the words echoed throughout his skull until all remnant of Voldemort had been thrown out temporarily by the ancient power of the Millennium Rod.

* * *

Marik put the rod back down beside the bed and threw the covers off the both of them to see Harry panting and having color rush back into his features. Sweat rolled down Harry's temple as the poor boy tried to regain control of his heart and lungs which felt ready to burst, but were suddenly relaxing as Marik tugged Harry upright also and into his chest. This was the Ishtar's chance, the feelings developed for the other had far surpassed platonic a while back and it was merely a case of one of them acting upon it.

Harry looked up to see himself resting on the bare chest of Marik, ear to the gentle calm thud of a heartbeat, too bad his own racing one couldn't follow suit. He was looking up into annoyingly calm violet eyes, feeling soft strands of blond hair brushing down to his cheek from Marik tilting his head downward to stare Harry down and create a breathe's distance between their faces.

Reaching out shyly and placing his hand on the Egyptian's shoulder to gently boost himself up a few millimeters to slowly close the gap between them. Marik wasn't moving a muscle, hell he wasn't even blinking, but oddly it wasn't unnerving, it was somewhat reassuring. There was only one thing that people did at such a close intimate range, with this type of tension in the air that was so thick it could be sliced a multitude of times with a sword. With a gentle tilt of his head to stop their noses from bumping, Harry slowly drew forward and froze up mere millimeters from Marik's lips.

His paranoia suddenly kicked in, hoping he wasn't merely taking advantage of the awkward moment, or if it was something they were both nonverbally consenting too, but Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when Marik's fingers gently slipped under his chin and tilted Harry up further and bringing himself forward to vanquish the millimeter distance. Marik wasn't known for his patience, and it had run rather thin at the awkward first-move, prompting him to bring them together.

Pushing aside the fact they were friends, wasn't it rather unwise to fall for someone who turned so evil, he killed his own father in cold blood? Someone, who for all intent and purposes would forsake all others to achieve his own goals? Including his family?

The good side of Marik still existed somewhere inside of his friend, he knew that or Odion and Isis would have long since been killed by now. Meaning he was capable of loving even though he mistreats those around him at times.

Harry's thoughts were washed apart by the tingling sensation that remained, and the silence only broken by gentle deep breaths. The silhouette form of two figures leaning into each other had suddenly made the Spirit of the Ring do a double-take backwards, suddenly going to discuss the plan so he could finally have the Millennium Rod didn't seem like a good idea at the moment.

The Spirit of the Ring then calmly straightened himself out, and quietly walked out of the room as silently as he had entered, unspotted. Shutting the door again with an unnoticed click he smirked as he walked down the hotel corridor, chuckling amusedly to himself.

He found it rather funny that he was correct all along with his assumptions on how close the two were which only made the future teasing so much sweeter.

Harry could have sworn he heard the door click but paid no mind to anything except what was going on between them both, having absolutely no romantic history behind him, Harry had to wonder if what they were doing was even right.

While Harry's mind seemed to be going into overdrive, Marik wasn't even thinking about his actions as he did them because for once his mind was deliciously blank and no side of him was fighting for once.

Harry had frozen up apart from the hand that remained on Marik's shoulder that squeezed and twitched but was unable to react in any other way as his head tilted back to draw back, with the sound of their lips gently coming apart breaking the monotonous sound of heavy breathing.

"_Marik,_" it came out quite breathlessly to Harry's dismay, any hope of regaining control of the situation had gone and though the room was dimly lit with a small, small lamp he could see the smirk on Marik's face. For the second time in his life Marik had been able to make him lose the feeling in his legs from the kneecaps down except this time it wasn't out of utter fear of being killed.

The smirk turned into a legitimate smile and when the lamp light went off, Marik finally said something back.

"You're mine, understand?" it was half growl, half command, half purr and Harry really wasn't sure which side of Marik was saying it but all that mattered was that he was saying it. It wasn't exactly romantic nor did Marik come at Harry like they were in _Casablanca_, but he couldn't ask for more because for the first time in a long time, he could sleep properly.

And he was not afraid.

For Marik perhaps it was a matter of dominance and to claim dominance over one of the deadlier men on the planet was an accomplishment and also very useful not only that but it was something each side of Marik could find a reason to have around. Whilst Yami Marik was looking at Harry as more of a manipulatable object, to Marik as a whole he certainly meant a lot more, they were long-ago friends and as of a few minutes ago were something more.

How was it that Harry always managed the impossible? To track down, reunite and become romantically entangled with a boy that'd grown so cold that he'd forsake all others for his own ends?

Harry had wondered this himself until he heard words in mind from not so long ago.

* * *

**_Flashback_**

_"When I say protect the leader of the Rare Hunters, I mean, really protect...even if that means from himself, do you understand?" Ishizu said to Harry as she appointed him his 'job' in Domino museum._

**_End Flashback_**

_

* * *

_

Those words had rang out in his mind as he fell asleep next to the blond, who urged him closer, not too close, but close enough to keep a hold of should anything else happen to Harry in his slumber. Protect Marik even if it means from himself, maybe...he'd been too judgmental of him. The psychological damage done to his friend was anything but his fault, it was the fault of the late Mr. Ishtar [senior] for trying to keep Marik away from the rest of the world in order to guard the tomb of a Pharaoh who had been dead for thousands of years. Harry could understand why of course, the Hekan coven he joined was devoted to protecting and keeping alive ancient Egypt's magic which was apart of it's history that far extended anything the muggle SCA could handle. But still, to try and block off the entire world from someone was just...wrong.

Of course, Marik had broken the tomb keeper's clan now. Harry leaned into his side and sighed wondering how he got to sleep so easily after everything that had just happened.

This was probably the real job that Harry was sent on which Ishizu had been so subtle about, he had to pull her brother back out of the darkness he'd plunged into. It would be no easy task but if he, Odion and his own family along with now...lover? Could not do it, then absolutely nobody could and in Harry's eyes, Marik was far from being a lost cause despite what anyone else thought about him.

* * *

**England:**

Aunt Petunia hadn't expected hide or hair of the Freak or any part of his life to collide with hers and had received an awful shock when an escaped magical convict had arrived at her door looking ready to lynch her with his bare hands in search of Harry Potter.

Sirius Orion Black was not pleased when Petunia said she didn't know where Harry went, but then opted to interrogate Vernon Dursley who immediately lost his arragonce and bravado when he brandished a stolen wand from his half torn dirty sleeve.

"Legilimens!" it was a spell he'd only ever done twice in his life and that was before his incarceration so it was certainly strange for him to suddenly do it now, but he was too angry and antsy to wait for the muggles to start spilling answers to he opted to rip through their minds to get it instead.

When he saw the memories pertaining to his godson, there were no words to describe how utterly pissed Sirius Black was. His black eyes had practically glowed with a rage that would collectively make Dumbledore, Snape and Voldemort shit their pants. He saw what Vernon's disgusting friends had done to Harry one fateful poker night, and all of the other acts of abuse that had happened from Vernon's hand.

They say that to perform an Unforgivable curse, you have to mean it, and there wasn't an iota of doubt in Sirius's mind that he couldn't do it, because at this point he felt like he could 'Crucio' and 'Avada Kedavra' to his hearts content and not feel an inch of remorse. The last thing he needed was proof to his label as a murderer though, so with a rather aggressive movement of the wand in his hand he casted the worst hex he could think of and rendered Vernon Dursley impaired. He was mute, deaf and blind and the spell certainly wasn't a legal one but it wasn't an Unforgivable either. In his eyes the only greater justice for Vernon would be the Dementer's kiss or a straight up killing curse to the heart, so this was as close as it'd get, but it certainly left Sirius smirking despite the remnants of rage festering inside of him at the cruel violation of his godson.

Sirius performed legilimens on Petunia also and saw similar though not nearly as cruel acts of abuse but was pleasently surprised when he saw moments were Petunia actually acted humane toward Harry through small acts of mercy. This led him to believe that at the very least Petunia was not well in the head and therefore didn't quite deserve the impairing hex, though she provided his godson with an escape. Whether this was the right thing to do or not, it was still an act of mercy to spare Harry of more pain, now all he had left to hope for was that if the Dursley's didn't destroy Harry Potter, the big wide world didn't.

The days had passed as he had roamed around living mostly in his animagus form and was treated by sympathetic civilians as a stray who was occasionally tossed a loaf of leftovers, but the suffering would be worth it if he could find his godson.

The worldwide news had been filled with his escape but also a controversy about traditional Egyptian warriors travelling to Japan as warriors with permission to do any means necessary to forfill their jobs, had caused quite a ruckus. It'd been called the license to more-or-less kill that was outraging and controversy worthy, but that's not what caught Sirius Black's attention. The Egyptian Hekan warriors had many news stories and the occasional documentary about them, all of which he tried to see and read, and he was alarmed to find one of them had familiar green eyes.

Familiar facial structure.

Familiar forehead scar, in a picture of him tucking his thick black bangs back.

He almost had a heart attack, struck between pride, awe, disbelief and shock...he hadn't expected_ that_ to come of his Prongslet.

It looked like Japan was next on the list of places to look...


End file.
